


Daryl Has a Husband

by VBabe16



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Flirting(mentioned), Husbands Reunited, Kissing, M/M, Paul has a dirty mouth, Sexual Content, Swearing, Tags to be added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:32:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VBabe16/pseuds/VBabe16
Summary: No one ever asked if Daryl was married. When Merle introduced Daryl as his brother, he didn't mention Daryl's last name, everyone just assumed it was Dixon. He didn't wear his ring because he didn't want to lose it. When Rick watches Daryl hug this strange man who bumped into him, he briefly wonders if he'd lost his mind again. Daryl Dixon doesn't hug anyone, especially not strangers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot, but if I get good reviews on it, I'll continue on. I do have a few other ideas for it, but I'm working on other stories right now as well. So, if ya'll want, I'll continue this one. I'll be updating it slower than usual if I do.

“It's soda and candy, why all the trouble?” Rick put his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow at the hunter in front of him.

“Wasn't any trouble.” Daryl says softly at Rick's incredulous stare, pulling at the chains around the rusted metal contraption. 

Rick watched the man try to find a way to break the glass on the vending machine. He stepped forward to offer help only to gasp out in pain when something knocks him into the edge of the metal machine. He pushes off the machine and yanks his gun out from it's holster, seeing Daryl do the same. 

“Back up! Now!” Daryl glared at the man backing away from them and faltered. Something seemed familiar about him

“... Hi.” The man that bumped into him holds his hands up, lower face covered with a bandanna and covered in multiple layers. He stepped back a bit more, eyeing the guns aimed at him. “Whoa... easy guys, I was just running from the dead.” Paul had been watching them for a while now. The man in the vest looked familiar to him. That vest especially jogged his memory. When they'd tried to push the vending machine onto its side, and those muscles in the man's biceps bulged, he'd felt a stirring in his loins that he hadn't felt in a long time.

It couldn't be. Daryl's heart raced. That voice, sweet and soothing. He had to get the man talking more. “How many?”

“Ten, maybe more.” The man in the vest, he seemed aggressive, restless. His voice was deep and sent familiar tingles down Paul's spine. His hair was long, however, and darker than his beloved's had been.

Daryl stared into the man's eyes, so crystal clear and expressive. A light teasing glint in them, playful and mirthful.

“I'm not risking it. Once it gets into double digits, I start running.”

“Where?” 

“About a half mile back. They're headed this way. You probably have about... eleven minutes.”

Rick peeked over the corner of the building before coming back to stand by Daryl. He glanced at the hunter, noticed his shoulders were relaxing, his grip on the gun loosening. “...” He looked back at the man. “Okay...” He put the safety on and lowered his gun. “Thanks for let-”

“Paul...” Daryl's voice was soft, almost a whimper. 

The man in question blinked, tensing a bit. He stepped closer to Daryl, lowering his head a bit so he can look at Daryl's eyes. “.... Daryl...?” He reached up, taking the white cloth down from his mouth. 

Daryl lowered his gun as well, putting the safety on before shoving it in his back pocket. “Oh fuck...” He rushed forward much to Rick's surprise, gathering the strange man in his arms. The man met him halfway, arms going around Daryl's broad shoulders. They hugged tightly, gripping each other close and sobbing softly.

“Daryl... I thought I'd never see you again...” The man pushed away after a moment, struggling to take his gloves off, dropping them to the ground and then reaching up to feel Daryl's face and hair, lips trembling and eyes watering. “Oh, baby... I didn't recognize you... your hair is so dark.” Rick's eyes went to the golden ring on Paul's wedding finger, lips parting in shock. 

Daryl sobbed softly, pulling the man closer, nudging into his shoulder. “Paul... fuck...”

Rick stared at the scene in front of him, immensely confused. He cleared his throat, hands on his hips. “Daryl...”

The hunter didn't seem to hear him, picking Paul up and swinging him around a bit, much like he had with Carol after Terminus. He set him down again and they leaned away from each other, only to lean in and kiss deeply. Rick flushed a bit and looked away, but he could hear their soft moans and whimpers, lips smacking together wetly. He reached for the keys in his back pocket only to find they were gone. Son of a bitch. So he looked back over, clearing his throat louder. 

“Daryl!”

Daryl heard him that time, pulling away from Paul and turning around, panting and flushed. 

“You... wanna introduce me to the octopus attached to your lips?” Rick teased, coming to stand closer to them. 

“Uh... right... Rick... t-this is Paul Rovia, my husband.”

Rick's eyes widened as Paul stuck his hand out to shake. “H-Husband..?”

Paul waited a moment, then dropped his hand. “Yes... husband. We were married for three years before the apocalypse happened. Daryl was in Georgia visiting Merle when the turn started. I wanted to leave Virginia to go find him, but... well... circumstances.”

Rick nodded. “... Right. Rick Grimes.” He held his hand out and shook Paul's. “You... wanna give me my keys back?”

Daryl blinked and looked down at Paul. “Little hippie...” He grinned a bit, reaching into Paul's right pocket and fishing the keys back out. 

Paul's expression darkened. “I'm sorry... my community needs that supplies.” He reached for Daryl's hand. 

“Paul... we have a community, too.” Daryl whispered, handing the keys to Rick. 

Rick took them, keeping them in his hand this time. “Maybe we can negotiate. We need food, but we have plenty of weapons.” 

Paul seemed to think this over. “You'd have to speak with Gregory.”

“Well, let us finish this run, we'll head back to Alexandria, talk to the others and come up with an idea, then we'll go to your community.” Rick said, hands on his hips again. 

The man looked up at Daryl, who was pleading him with his eyes. “Baby, I jus got ya back... please don't leave 'gain.” Daryl whispered, reaching to touch Paul's hair. Rick raised an eyebrow. Daryl had never been this affectionate with anyone.

Paul's chest constricted. “Daryl... I'd never leave you, especially not now.” He smiled, reaching up to take Daryl's hand in his. 

“Let's go then.” Rick said, turning back to the truck. 

“Hold on, man.” Daryl said, grabbing the crowbar back up. Paul followed him to the vending machine, grinning as he watched Daryl's muscles play under his skin when he smashed the machine's window open. 

“Mmn... how I missed you.”

Daryl smirked up at him. “Sure it wasn't mah arms that you missed?” He asked, reaching in for the Crush soda and a few bags of candy and chips. 

“Yeah, those, too.” Paul chuckled. 

Rick rolled his eyes at them. This was going to be a long day. 

 

It was a very long day. They hit up a couple more places, found some more supplies and packed it into the back. Daryl and Paul worked very well together, perfectly synchronized even after two years apart. Paul was very cuddly and touchy, feeling up Daryl's arms and hair, murmuring softly in his ear and staying close to his side. Daryl was very accepting of it, even returning a few hushed whispers and chuckling softly, teasing the man by often stealing his beanie. It was very strange to Rick, seeing Daryl smile and be so very relaxed. On the ride home, he decided to find out a bit about their relationship. 

“How'd you two meet?”

Paul looked over at him from Daryl's shoulder and smiled. “I worked nights at a bar that Daryl and his brother frequented. It took determination and lots of bad flirting to get Daryl to go out with me. I think the kicker that really got him was when he was telling me about his bike and I asked him to take me on a ride. Double meaning, of course. He came back later that night as I was closing, really surprised me, and took me to this lake on the outskirts of town. It was really romantic.” He grinned at Daryl, who hummed softly, arm on the seat behind Paul and thumb stroking his shoulder. “Anyways, we went on a couple dates and then I get this offer to a school in Virginia, I tell him I have to move and he says,” He imitated Daryl's voice, “'I'll come wit ya'.”

“I don't sound nothin like that.” Daryl smirked a bit.

Rick laughed. “He's actually pretty spot on. So he moved with you?”

“He did. He transferred jobs and worked while I went to school. It was hard with only him working, but... I wanted to get school done as soon as I could so we could buy our dream house, have our dream wedding and be happy together.”

“What did you go to school for?”

“Art History and Literature. During my classes very last art exhibit, I got an offer put on several of my paintings. I sold them and... well... with the money we bought a house, I bought a shop and started giving art classes to kids and we got married 6 years after our first date.”

“You guys really took a chance, moving together so fast.” Rick said, glancing over at them. 

“We did... and it paid off.” Paul whispered, playing with a loose thread on Daryl's thigh. “When I heard about the bombing in Atlanta.... a part of me died. I had no way of knowing if Daryl was alive or dead. All the phone lines went down, so I couldn't call or text him. I was so scared...” His throat constricted and he felt tears prick at his eyes. 

“'ey... 'm right 'ere...” Daryl whispered, wrapping his arm tighter around Paul's shoulder and bringing him closer. His other hand to Paul's hair, carding his fingers through the strands.

“So... is your last name Dixon?”

“Nah... I took Paul's last name. 'm Daryl Rovia.”

“Why didn't you say anythang? How come I never saw a ring on you?”

“Soon as the turn started, I took mah ring off cause I didn't wanna lose it.” He reached into his shirt and pulled out a chain where a golden band rested. “No one ever asked if I was 'r not. They all jus assumed when Merle introduced us that I's a Dixon, too. Plus... I didn't know if Paul was alive 'r not.” He took the ring of it's chain and went to put it on his finger, but Paul the ring from him. 

“Let me...” He whispered and gently slid it on Daryl's finger. “Right where it belongs.” He wrapped his arm around Daryl's waist, cuddling into his side. Rick smiled and returned his eyes to the road. 

When they got back to Alexandria, everyone was surprised to see the new comer step out of the truck after Daryl and the hunter reaching up to help him down. Paul looked around, smiling at all the confused, shocked faces. 

Rick came around from the driver's side of the truck. “Help us unload.” He told them, opening the back of the truck. “We've got a lot of supplies, and a lot to talk about once it's all settled.” Many people came to start helping unload the truck and carry everything into Olivia's house to be sorted. Once the truck was mostly empty, he turned to Carol. “Get the council together and have them come to my house.” She nodded and hurried away. “Paul, come with me. We have a lot to talk about.”

Daryl took Paul's hand and they followed Rick back to his place. Within ten minutes, Paul was sat at the head of a table, Daryl standing behind him, and the council in front of him. Everyone watched in rapt silence as Daryl played with Paul's long hair, gently pulling it back into a bun out of his face. Paul smiled up at him, taking his hand and kissing it. Only Glenn seemed to be smiling happily, hiding a secret only he knew.

“Thank you, love.”

Daryl blushed and looked away from everyone, resting his hands on the back of Paul's chair. 

“Tell us about this community of yours.” Rick said. 

“Well... it's called the Hilltop, and it's actually not too far from here, maybe a couple two or three hours. It was started by a man named Gregory who had holed up in a museum called Barrington House. Surrounding the house are FEMA trailers. We grow our own food and animals, make our own tools. We have a doctor. Everyone has their designated job. My job is to go out, scavenge and find other communities to trade with.”

Maggie perked up. “Other communities? And... you have a doctor?”

Paul nodded. “Yes. We're running low on supplies, though, which is why I tried to steal your truck.” He said, looking at Rick. “I... didn't expect to find my husband.” He whispered. 

“Husband?” Half the room mimicked. 

Paul chuckled. “Yes. I'll explain later. For now, I need you to take me to Hilltop so you can negotiate with Gregory. Maybe in exchange for food and supplies, you can train my people to fight and give us protection.”

“Protection? From who?” Glenn asked. 

“There's a group of bandits out there that call themselves Hell's Angels. They attack our walls frequently. More than one of us has been killed or taken hostage. We give them food in exchange for not attacking us. If we miss a drop or short them, they attack.”

“How many is in the bandit group?”

“Ten... but like I said... my people are not fighters. Most of them don't even know how to use a gun.”

“We can take 'em out.” Daryl rasped. “They're jus bandits.”

Paul looked over his shoulder at him. “How do you know?”

“We've never had a problem with confrontation. We've dealt with some nasty people out there.” Rick responded. 

Paul looked at him. “You'll have to take it up with Gregory. He's not the leader I would've chosen, but the people look up to him. We'll need to leave soon. They're expecting a drop the day after tomorrow.”

Rick nodded. “Alright. We'll leave in the morning. I don't like risking driving at night.” He stood up. “We'll take one-fourth of what we found with us. If Gregory agrees to negotiate, we'll send more.”

Paul stood as well. “Thank you, Rick.”

Rick nodded. “It's getting late, let's eat and go to bed. I expect you'll be staying with Daryl at his house?”

Daryl blushed. “Yeah... he will.”

Paul turned to him, smirking. “You have your own house? So... we can be as loud as we want, huh?”

There was a round of groans and disgusted sounds as everyone quickly dispersed. Daryl took his hand. 

“C'mon, let's go eat.” 

Paul chuckled and held his hand tightly as they walked down the street from Rick's house. Daryl's house was a dark blue on the outside with white shutters and a white door. A couple of the windows in front were open, letting a nice breeze inside. Daryl opened the door and Paul followed him in. As Daryl took his shoes off, Paul mimicked him, taking off his own shoes, jacket and vest, leaving him in his white shirt and cargo pants. He followed Daryl into the kitchen and watched as the hunter pulled out some meat from the fridge and start cooking it. 

“I missed your cooking.” Paul whispered, coming to hug Daryl from behind. 

“Missed cookin wit ya.” Daryl whispered back, smiling as the scout came around to help him. 

Together, they cooked a hearty meal and ate silently, enjoying each others company. When they finished eating, they washed dishes together and went to Daryl's room, both tired and ready to lay down. Once they got there, however, they both became nervous. Neither wanted to make the first move. Silence reigned over them for a couple minutes before Daryl approached his husband. 

“Wanna shower wit me?

Paul smiled and bit his bottom lip. “Yeah.” He reached up, slowly taking the hunter's vest off. He laid it carefully across the chair behind him, then started on the hunter's shirt, unbuttoning it slowly and then sliding his hands across bare shoulders to push it off. His breath caught in his throat, staring at the bare chest in front of him. Many nights he'd spent worshiping this chest with his hands and lips. His hands glided down the dirty, sweaty skin, his eyes following along. He stopped when he came upon a new scar on Daryl's right side. “Where'd this come from?”

“One'a mah arrows. I's ridin a horse in the forest searchin fer Carol's little girl. The horse bucked me off 'n I fell down a cliff right onto an arrow.” Daryl shivered from the memory and from Paul's fingers gently touching the sensitive skin.

“You've lost weight.”

Daryl reached forward, gently tugging Paul's shirt off and staring at the expanse of smooth skin. He swallowed thickly. “So have ya..”

“Not on purpose, I assure you.” Paul smiled. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Daryl's waist and pressing their bare chests together. He moaned softly, nuzzling the hunter's neck and breathing in his scent. He felt Daryl's large, hot hands travel up his back and shivered. He nipped Daryl's ear. “Let's get clean, I wanna eat you out.” He whispered. When Daryl's cock gave an interested twitch against his jeans, Paul smirked. 

Daryl nodded and stepped away, walking into his shower and dropping his jeans and boxers. Paul quickly followed suit, stepping into the shower stall and turning the water on. It was cold at first, but warmed up quickly. He grabbed Daryl's hand and pulled him close, leaning up and kissing him deeply. Daryl wasted no time in pinning him to the tile wall, grinding against him and grabbing his thighs to lift him. Paul moaned, eagerly wrapping his legs around Daryl's waist, hands grabbing his husband's shoulders and biting his bottom lip. 

“Daryl... I-I wanna ask you something.” Paul panted. “Please don't take offense to it.”

Daryl grunted, kissing and biting up and down Paul's neck. His hips continued moving, rubbing their cocks together and his hands kept hold of Paul's thighs possessively. 

“B-Baby, you gotta stop that... mmn... can't think when you do... ah... that.”

The hunter relented after a moment. He pulled back and looked up at Paul, eyes adoring and warm. Paul swallowed thickly. 

“Were... h-have you been... with anyone... since the world ended?” At Daryl confused and slightly hurt look, Paul quickly continued. “I-I only ask because... I noticed how close you and Rick are, and you and Carol... she seems to have a soft spot for you.” Daryl sighed and gently lowered Paul's feet back to the floor. “Daryl... I-I'm sorry-” He stopped when Daryl's hands gently cupped his cheek and kissed him oh so softly and warmly. Paul moaned softly, hands on Daryl's chest. His heart swelled at the wonderful kiss.

“Paul...” He rasped. “I ain't been wit no one. You was the only one fer me, and ya still are. Even if ya was ta die tomorrow 'r next year 'r twenty years from now... I still wouldn't want no one but you. Ever since the first time ya used a cheesy pick-up line on me, mah heart has been yer's.” He gently pushed a stray strand of wet hair from Paul's cheek. 

Paul swallowed thickly. “Daryl..”

“Now... think it's only fair if ya answer me in kind.”

“No. I haven't been with anyone. I've had offers, many of them... but... no one can make my heart race like you, Daryl. When you said my name, back at that gas station... my heart just about stopped beating. I couldn't believe it was you. Your hair's so long and dark... how does it do that anyways?”

Daryl shrugged. “I dunno. I never let it grow out so I didn't know it does that.”

Paul smiled. “I like it. Gives me more to hold onto.” He whispered, leaning up to kiss his husband again. “Now... get clean so I can have my wicked way with you.” 

Several hours later, they lay in Daryl's bed, basking in the after glow of their love. Daryl's hips were pleasantly sore and Paul's chest and neck were littered with bruises and bite marks. The hunter moaned softly, his buttocks red and sensitive from Paul's beard. He turned his head, nuzzling into Paul's stomach. This close, he could smell Paul's musk and it made him dizzy with want. He pressed a kiss to the man's stomach and slowly lowered down to his hips, pausing when he spotted a scar on the scout's right thigh. He reached down and gently rubbed it. 

“What's this..?” He asked. 

“Hm?” Paul murmured, lifting his head a bit. His fingers paused in their ministrations on Daryl's hair. “Oh... gun shot wound. Last year those bandits caught me on a run. I managed to get away, but they got a shot in. Thankfully, Dr. Carson is a good doctor and got it all taken care of.”

Daryl nodded, humming his assent. He pressed a kiss to the scar and then crawled back up the length of the scout's body and lay against his side, nuzzling into his neck. Paul brought the blankets over them, holding the hunter close. 

“Let's get some sleep.” 

 

The next morning, everyone watched Daryl and Paul quietly in the RV. It was strange seeing Daryl be so loving with someone. They whispered to each other, kissed softly, held hands and cuddled. At Hilltop, everyone was a bit tense. It was a new area and new people and they didn't know what to expect. They could see the evidence of fire on the walls of the community and Rick frowned. 

“It doesn't look very safe.”

“It holds up better than you think. It rains often, so the fire doesn't always catch very quickly.” Paul said, coming to stand beside him. “Come inside, I'll let Gregory know you're here.” He took Daryl's hand again and led them into the house. “Make your selves comfortable.” He said and left them in the den with the fireplace while he left to go find Gregory.

Everyone took their jackets off and set their weapons down, but kept them close. Daryl walked around, looking at paintings and recognizing some of Paul's work. He was happy his husband kept up with his passion even in this terrible world. When he noticed everyone was silent, he turned and looked at them, finding them staring back at him. 

“The fuck ya'll lookin at?”

“Since when are you married?” Maggie asked, pointing at his ring. 

“Since three years ago.” Daryl growled. “Got a fuckin problem with that?”

“I didn't say that, Daryl. None of us were thinking that. We're just confused. You never told us you were married.” She smiled. 

“Well, ya'll never asked. Ya'll jus assumed I's single.”

Abraham snorted. “No wonder you never got with Carol.”

Daryl shook his head and continued walking around looking out the windows at the people meandering about. Paul soon walked in, followed by Gregory. 

“Welcome, everyone! Paul tells me you have a community not too far away, and you brought supplies!” He smiled, arms wide and inviting. Daryl thought he looked every bit a douche bag as he sounded. 

Rick stood and approached him. “I'm Rick Grimes, and yes, we have a community called Alexandria. We'd like to start trading with you.”

Gregory nodded, seeming to only hear half of what Rick is saying. “Yes, of course. I'd like to negotiate, but only with that little lady over there.” He pointed at Maggie, who raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Why me?” She asked. 

“You're beautiful and look smart.” Gregory smirked. 

She glared at him. “Not interested.”

“Maggie, negotiate with the man.” Rick said, turning to walk back to his seat, ignoring the farm girl's glare. 

Maggie stood and marched over to Gregory. “Fine, I'll talk with you, but you won't say a word until I'm done. And don't touch me!” She growled when Gregory tried touching her back, glaring at Rick once again as she followed Gregory out of the den and into his office. 

Glenn sighed. “He better not do anything to her.”

“Maggie can handle herself.” Rick said, closing his eyes to rest for a bit. “If I didn't think so couldn't I never would have let her go.” 

“Gregory's a coward. He wouldn't try anything to a woman with a knife or gun in her hand.” Paul smiled. “She'll be fine.” He looked at Daryl, who was leaning by one of the windows. “Baby..?” Everyone watched to see what Daryl would do, almost laughing when the hunter's head immediately turned to Paul's voice, eyes searching for him until they landed on the scout. “Come here, I want to show you something.”

Daryl glared at everyone as he passed them, leaving his crossbow with Rick. He followed Paul up the stairs to the second floor and into a room. “What's this?” He asked softly, looking around at the bed and the art supplies and books covering every available surface. 

“My room. I have a trailer outside, but, it's being used by a woman and her daughter who I brought back several months ago.”

“Shit, shoulda guessed it right away wit all the books and paint.”

Paul chuckled, going over to a desk and picking a drawing pad up. “I remember out first apartment... you'd get mad because you'd trip over my books and easels every morning when you were getting ready for work. The one time you actually broke my easel, I was so mad. It was an easel I'd had for years.”

“Ya hated that damn thing. It was so old, it squeaked 'n moved every time ya tried usin it.”

“Your very first gift to me was that real expensive metal one. All my best pieces were painted on that precious easel.” He walked over to the bed and sat down.

Daryl watched him as he walked around the room, looking at all the books and paint can and brushes. “Went by the house a couple months ago.”

Paul looked up at him. “What..?”

“Yeah... Glenn 'n I went on a run a few weeks after getting ta Alexandria. I... jus wanted ta see it... see if ya was there.”

 

Glenn stared up at the log cabin. “What is this place?” He asked. It was two stories with a chimney and a two car garage. The door and windows were shut, it looked practically untouched. 

“Jus... somewhere I saw while huntin.” Daryl muttered, getting out of the truck and walking up to the door. He peeked in the window, seeing the hallway that stretched to the kitchen in the back, the staircase to the right and a large open door to the left. He banged on the door a couple times and they waited, but no walkers came. He tried the door, but it was locked. 

“Let's just break the window.”

“No.” 

Glenn blinked at the immediate response. “Uh... okay... how do you expect we get in, then?”

Daryl sighed and went down to the garage door. He tried the electronic number lock and the door opened. “Shit... them damn batteries do last a life time.” He muttered. 

“Jesus, Daryl... how'd you know the number to get it open?”

“Like I said... found this place while huntin, tried fifty damn combinations 'fore I found the right one.” He muttered and stepped into the garage. It was a large open space, with a wall of tools and a workbench and a closet. A bike sat in the corner under a tarp gathering dust and he was very tempted to take it back, but he doubted it would fit in the back of the truck with all the other things they'd found. He tried the door into the house and found it unlocked, so he entered cautiously. 

The door went right into the kitchen and breakfast nook. It was spacious, with dark wood cabinets and dark granite counter tops, but all the windows lit the room brightly. The kitchen opened up into the living room, which led into the formal dining room. The walls were a light gray color, white curtains covering every window. 

“This place is huge... looks brand new, too.” Glenn whispered, coming into behind him. “I'll start checking the kitchen.” He said and started going through the cabinets, grinning when he found all kinds of canned and boxed goods. 

'Paul must not have been home when it happened. I guess he decided to go ahead and visit Gracia.' Daryl thought. He'd hoped Paul had holed up here. 

Silently, he made his way upstairs and into the master bedroom. It was just as it'd been when he left that morning for Georgia. The bed was a mess from Paul still sleeping in it when he'd kissed him good bye, the closet and bathroom doors were left opened. He went to the closet quietly, looking inside at all the clothes; and, in the very back, their wedding suits sealed in preservation boxes. He knelt down and took his rag to the box, wiping the thick layer of dust off and stared at the white suit inside. Paul had looked so beautiful that day, his hair pulled back with a bit of babies breath braided into it, grinning so wide and happy. He'd never once left Daryl's side, clinging to his hand and whispering in his ear all the things they were going to do on their honeymoon. 

Daryl sniffled, wiping his tears away and setting the box back down. He stood up and started grabbing all his clothes and shoving them in his back pack. He hesitated, and then grabbed all of Paul's as well, shoving them in his back pack as well. He'd put them in his closet at his house in Alexandria. He probably fit in most of them now anyways. He walked over to the dresser, staring at the many pictures on the top. Most of them from their wedding and honeymoon. He picked one up, his favorite one. It was of them waking up the morning after the wedding. Paul was still sleepy on his chest, hair a mess from their passionate night. Daryl was still a bit sleepy as well, hand in Paul's hair, holding him close. They were both smiling up at the camera, cheeks flushed from sleep (and other things), rings glinting on their fingers. 

He put the picture frame on the bed next to his bag and then went through the dresser, pulling out underwear, socks, tank tops and sweat pants. He grabbed the duffel bag from the door and tossed it on the bed and started packing away the clothes. He went into the bathroom and grabbed his pack of razors and, after a moment's thought, his unopened can of deodorant spray and the shampoo and conditioner. They'd lived pretty far from town, so they tried staying stocked up on things so they wouldn't have to make so many trips to and from. After Paul had started selling all his paintings and his shop took off, Daryl hadn't really needed to work, but he hated staying home, so he opened his own mechanic shop that he only went to it three days out of the week. 

Downstairs, Glenn finished in the kitchen and made his way through the living room and dining room, grabbing utensils and dishes, putting them in boxes and taking them out to the truck. He went down the hall into the bathroom and got whatever was useful from in there and then made his way upstairs and into one of the other rooms. He heard Daryl rummaging in the master bedroom, so he went across the hall into another room. He blinked, staring at all the paint cans, canvases and at the computer desk in the corner. He walked over to the desk, hoping to maybe find some batteries, but stopped when he caught sight of the pictures on the surface. 

“Holy shit...” He whispered and picked one of the frames up. “... Daryl..?” He muttered. The picture was of a wedding day it seemed, Daryl in a black suit and some other guy in a white one. They were standing in front of an arbor filled with baby breathes and lilies, Daryl's arms around the man's waist and the man's hands on Daryl's chest. They were both smiling brightly and the other man was a bit tearful. “This... is Daryl's house...” He looked around the room and noticed on the walls were paintings of Daryl. Daryl's back. Daryl sleeping. Daryl working. 

Glenn swallowed thickly, feeling sad for the hunter. He'd never met this other man in the photo. Daryl must have been visiting Merle in Georgia when this thing happened and had come here today hoping to maybe find his husband. The house was empty, untouched. Something must have happened to this man in the photo. After a split decision, he put the picture in his bag and picked up another one. This one was a close up of them holding hands, showing off the rings. The frame was silver and had writing on it. 'Paul and Daryl Rovia.' He set the picture back down. He wanted to ask Daryl about it, but he kept his silence. He went through the desk, found batteries and left the room. 

Daryl exited the master bedroom just as Glenn left Paul's art studio. Glenn looked at him with unshed tears, but didn't say anything. It was why Daryl had brought Glenn and not Carol or Rick. Glenn would respect his privacy and not ask about it. They went through the last two rooms in mutual silence, one a library and the other Daryl and Paul's work out room. As they drove back home, Glenn finally broke the silence. 

“... How long were you together?”

Daryl glanced at him from the road. “Nine years.”

“Do you... have any idea what might have happened to him?”

“Most I can think is he went ta visit his sister Gracia. From the look'a the house, he left jus after I did.” Daryl whispered. “Don't think he ever went back. All'a his clothes and books were still there.”

Glenn nodded. He reached into his bag and pulled out the picture. “I.. I took this.”

Daryl glanced at it and swallowed thickly. He pulled the truck over and reached for it, staring down at the wedding picture. It had been Paul's favorite. He'd had nearly ten copies made.

“What was he like?”

“.... Sincere, gentle, but he could kick yer ass in a heart beat. He took a lot'a martial arts classes. He loved ta read and draw... he was a very successful artist. We owned an art shop 'n a auto shop. When we bought that cabin, it was nearly fallin' apart.” Daryl took a deep breath. “We renovated it together, made it our own. He did a lot of the colors and interior designs, always had an eye fer shit like that. I jus... made sure he was happy. Gave 'im everythang he wanted. Was funny... he always told me the only thing he wanted was me. We could've lived in a back alley selling jewelry made from scratch and he would'a been happy cause I's with 'im.”

“Daryl.... that's beautiful.”

“Nah... he's beautiful. His smile brought me more happiness than all the bikes 'n crossbows 'n burgers in the world, 'specially when it was directed at me.” He set the photo down on the seat between them. “Wasn't always perfect. We had our fair share of arguments, mostly cause I tended ta keep things bottled up, 'n he tended ta be insecure. Even though we's married, he was always afraid I'd find someone better, someone younger. Could never get 'im ta understand that he's all I wanted, all I needed.” He started the truck back up and finished the drive home. 

 

Paul teared up a bit and looked down at his drawing pad. “I couldn't go back. Gracia was so scared when it all started. We tried going to a refugee camp, but ran into a bunch of walkers. She got... bit and turned. By the time she'd died, I had a group of scared people and we found the Hilltop. When I heard from someone that Atlanta got bombed... I... I couldn't... I couldn't return to the house. All those memories, they would've killed me.”

Daryl walked up to him and crawled into his lap, holding him close. “We're tagether now... s'all that matters.” He whispered, kissing Paul's hair down to his cheek. 

Paul smiled up at him tearfully, flopping down on the bed. He opened the drawing pad searched for a moment before finding the picture he wanted to show Daryl. Daryl took the pad from him, straddling the scouts hips. He blushed a bit when he saw himself, laying naked on their old bed and sleeping. It was drawn in great detail. The lines and shadows of his muscles, cock laying flaccid against his thigh and the tattoo on his chest.

“I drew you a lot... it helped me get through some tough times.” Paul whispered, hands on Daryl's thighs.

Daryl glanced down at him, going through the drawing pad, some of the pictures were quite graphic, making him blush. “Some'a these have stains on them...” He smirked. 

“Well... you cause a lot of very naughty thoughts and ideas.” Paul smirked back. He took the drawing pad and set it on the bed next to them before sitting up, arms going around Daryl's waist and kissing his neck. Daryl hugged his shoulders, nuzzling into his hair. 

The door opened suddenly and a man walked in, smiling brightly. “Jesus, you're ba-” He stopped, staring at the man on top of Paul. 

Daryl looked over his shoulder at the door, glaring a bit. “Don't ya know how ta knock?” He growled. 

Paul sighed and patted Daryl's thigh. “Get up a minute, baby.” Daryl complied, climbing off Paul to stand up, arms crossed. 

“Jesus, who's this?”

“'Jesus?' The fuck kinda nickname is that?” Daryl smirked. 

Paul chuckled. “It's better than 'prick' or 'asshole.'”

“'ey, ya love it when I call ya asshole in bed.” 

“When we're role playing maybe.” Paul nudged Daryl's with his elbow.

The man glared at them. “Paul...”

Paul cleared his throat. “Alex... this is Daryl, my husband. Daryl, this is Alex. He's a nurse who assists Dr. Carson.”

Alex's eyes widened. “Your... husband? The one who you... said was dead?”

“No... I didn't say he was dad, I said I thought he was dead. I believed in my heart he was alive, I just had no proof.” He reached down, taking hold of Daryl's hand. 

Alex's eyes fell to their joined hands. “I-I thought... we were...”

“Alex, we were never going to be together. I don't want anyone. I only want Daryl.” Paul whispered. Daryl didn't know whether to be mad that this guy thought he had even an inkling or a chance with Paul, or feel sorry for the guy. 

“Of course... I'm sorry...” Alex whispered and quickly left the room, shutting the door behind him. 

“... That was awkward.” Paul muttered, turning to his husband. 

“'ey, his own fault fer fallin fer a guy who still wears his wedding ring even though his husband was MIA.” Daryl shrugged. 

Paul smiled. “You're back now... we're together.”

“Damn right.” The hunter smiled, hugging the scout close.


	2. Ch. 2

A few days later, while Daryl and Glenn went out on a run to find baby items for Maggie and ammo for weapons, Jesus and Rick left the Hilltop to hunt in the surrounding forest. While neither of them were good hunters, Daryl had set some snares the previous day. They found a buck stuck in one of the snares and Jesus threw his knife, getting the buck in the head. 

“Nice.” Rick whispered and followed the man to the fallen buck. 

“Thanks. Daryl and I used to go hunting a lot in the fall. While he preferred his crossbow, I liked my knives. Not the fastest weapon, but it works when the prey is stuck.” Jesus pulled the blade out of the buck's head and wiped it on a rag. “Plus, I like watching Daryl's muscles play.”

Rick chuckled a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “It's weird.”

Jesus cut the knot around the buck's back leg and looked up at the leader. “What is?”

“Well... seeing Daryl so.... relaxed.” 

The scout chuckled and stood up. “I've been noticing everyone staring at us. How is it so weird?”

“We're just used to him being... reserved and tense. He's always done everything he can to help and protect the family, but... he still kept everyone at arms length.” Rick explained, reaching down to help Jesus pick the buck up to carry home. “There have been times where he's let us in, y'know, hugged us, told us something from his past, shared some laughs and tears. We all just figured he was used to being alone so we never pushed him.”

“Daryl's always been like that.” Paul smiled, eyes glancing at Rick, but keeping an eye on his footing. “When we first met he was very standoffish and rude, mostly when he was with Merle. If he ever came into the bar alone, he would sit and talk with me. He used mostly monosyllabic words and the smallest sentences ever. After a while, though, he opened up. On our first date, he talked so much I thought maybe I was imagining it.” They set the buck down to rest for a moment. “When we moved in together, he was so shy, because we shared a bed and a bathroom. The first time we showered together, his cheeks were so red and his hands shook.” He chuckled. “It took him months to realize I wasn't going anywhere. He was so insecure.”

Rick grinned. It reminded him of Lori and himself. Rick had been so scared Lori would find someone better when they got together in high school. He was certain she would get with Shane when she realized how shy and scared Rick was. She'd proved him wrong on prom night. “Well, it's nice to see him so happy. I have never seen him smile this much. I think the closest he's gotten to being this happy was at the prison. After Beth died, he became even more reserved.”

Jesus nodded. “He's told me all about Beth. He feels very responsible for her death. I've been trying to convince him it wasn't his fault, that he did everything he could; but, once he gets to feeling guilty about something, it's very hard to change his mind.” Rick nodded in agreement. “He'll come around, though.” 

They returned to Hilltop just as the sun began to set and Mark opened the gate to let them in. As they walked away from the gate and to the back of Barrington House for the buck to be skinned and gutted, everyone failed to realize the gate left open and the walkers stumbling toward it. As Daryl and Glenn drove back up, they saw a walker stumbling through the small opening of the gates. 

“Shit!” Daryl growled, stomping on the break of the Chrysler and immediately putting it in park. He jumped out of the car, not bothering to shut it off and ran toward the gate with his crossbow in hand. 

Glenn followed after him quickly, gasping at the six walkers stumbling toward people. A scream rang out and people started running away, running for their trailers and Barrington House. Glenn took out the nearest walker before it could lunge for someone while Daryl used his crossbow to take out the walkers further away. Sasha, Rosita and Abraham came running out, knives in hands and taking out the rest. Rick and Jesus soon followed, eyes wide at the sight of the walkers on the ground. Glenn let out a pained cry and fell to the ground when a seventh walker fall on him. Daryl growled and stabbed the walker in the back of its head and pulled it off his friend. 

“Ya a'ight?”

Glenn took the hunter's hand and stood. “Yeah. It didn't get me, not for lack of trying, though.” Maggie came running to him and he hugged her tightly. 

Daryl turned to the two men on guard. “What the fuck?! Why was the damn gate open?!”

Phil held his hands up. “I've been up here the entire time, Dixon-”

“It's Rovia!” Daryl growled, glaring at him. 

Glenn released Maggie and turned to Mark. “Why was the gate open? We're lucky it was just the seven!”

Mark, a tall, burly man with quite the temper, stepped up and got in Glenn's face. “Hey, back off, man! Maybe if you take gate duty some time you'd be just as tired!”

The Korean glared. “Maybe you should do runs sometime, actually put yourself in danger for the good of others once in a while!”

Mark growled and pulled his fist back and it collided with Glenn's cheek, knocking him back. Maggie gasped and ran forward, kneeling to her husband. Daryl dropped his crossbow and shoved Mark back from Glenn and Maggie. 

“Back off, asshole!” The hunter growled. 

“Oh shit...” Paul groaned and ran down the hill. Rick followed close behind, sighing as Mark and Daryl punched and shoved at each other. 

“Daryl, stop!” Rick yelled, grabbing his brother around the shoulders and yanking him back. Everyone watched as Jesus shoved Mark away, trying to diffuse the situation, while Daryl shoved Rick away. “That's enough, both of you.” He glanced back and forth between his husband and Mark. “What happened?”

“Mark left the gate opened, inviting walkers in.” Glenn said, standing and rubbing his slowly bruising chin. 

Jesus turned to Mark. “Mark, is that true?”

Mark shifted in his spot, obviously not wanting to take the blame for walkers getting into their community. “Shit happens, man.”

“Ya fuckin kiddin me!?” Daryl growled, stepping forward again. 

“Daryl-” Paul turned, placing his hands on the hunter's chest to stop him. 

“It's lazy fuckers like ya that get everyone else killed!” Everyone waited with baited breath, expecting Daryl to shove Paul aside. He did stop, however, slowly relaxing under the other man's touch. “Glenn almost got bit cause'a yer laziness!”

“Man, fuck you!” Mark yelled. 

“Daryl, it's enough.” Paul whispered, reaching up to pet Daryl's cheeks. He smiled as his husband relaxed further. “No one's hurt, you and Glenn got here in time to save everyone.” The hunter's hands went to his hips and his eyes looked down at him. “See? I'm here.” He heard a soft 'holy shit' from Abraham to their right and chuckled. 

“You need to control that mutt you call a husband better, Jesus!” Mark smirked. “His temper is going to kill someone. I'm surprised you've managed to put up with him for so long. Or maybe you used the world ending as an excuse to leave him?”

Daryl's fingers tightened on his hips. Paul felt a growl rising in his chest. He slowly lowered his hands from Daryl's cheeks and reached down to gently remove the hunter's hands from his person. Daryl complied and whispered to him. 

“Go easy on 'im, baby.”

“I mean... you could certainly do better.” Mark smirked, arms crossed over his chest. “Not only does he have a bad temper, but his voice sounds like he gargles nails every morning as mouth wash, his hair is a rat's nest, that stupid crossbow he carries runs out of arrows before the battle has even started and I bet you have to pretend to enjoy it when you have sex.”

Paul turned away from Daryl and slowly walked the few feet to reach Mark. “... Are you done?”

Mark, a few inches taller than Jesus, looked down at him. “Admit it... you married him because you pity him.”

“I'd take that back if I were you. I do not want to hurt you, Mark.” Paul growled, hands clenched into fists. 

“Uh... Daryl...” Rick whispered, stepping closer to his brother. “You wanna stop him? Mark's nearly twice his size.”

“Nah... he'll be fine.” Daryl murmured, arms crossed over his chest.

Mark stepped closer, getting into Paul's face. “I said.... you married him because you pity him, and you used the world ending to leave him, and now that he's back, you're lost on how to ditch him. It's easy, Paul. Just leave him and come be-” The palm of Paul's right hand met Mark's chest with powerful force, sending him flying back into the wall surrounding the community. Before he could catch his breath, Paul's forearm met his neck and pressed into his windpipe. 

“Shut. Your. Mouth.” Paul growled lowly. “You do not get to call me by my name. It is either Jesus or Rovia to you. How dare you insinuate that I would ever leave Daryl for any reason other than by death, and most certainly not for a whining, lazy asshole like you?! Daryl Rovia is my husband. I love him more than anything in this world. He is hard working, caring and a far better man than you could ever be! Yes, he has a temper and he doesn't always think everything through, but we all have our faults, and I love him even more for them!” He slowly pulled his forearm back, letting the man breathe. 

Mark coughed and took in deep breaths before smirking again. “What? Your mutt can't fight his own battles?” His gaze trailed over to Daryl over Paul's shoulder.

Paul growled and shoved him harder into the wall, forearm going to Mark's windpipe again. “You don't look at him! You do not speak to him or go anywhere near him, or me! He can fight his own battles! I defend his honor because I love him and that's what a good husband does! If he didn't want me defending him, he would have said so!” He pulled back roughly, letting Mark fall to the ground to cough and pant. “If I see you look at him or talk to him with any intention of harming him, I will kill you where you stand! Am I understood?” At Mark's weak affirmative, Paul turned and strolled away, ignoring everyone's shocked stares. He grabbed up Daryl's crossbow, took the hunter's hand and stormed away from the scene. 

Daryl gave a little smirk at Rick as they passed, holding Paul's hand tightly and following him willingly. Everyone watched the two walk into the Barrington House. Rick cleared his throat and crossed his arms, turning to the others. 

“Well... let's get these walkers burned and then we can eat.” He said. Everyone joined together and started a pile of walkers and let the dead bodies of fire. 

 

As soon as the door shut behind them, Daryl pinned Paul to it, kissing him deeply and yanking the beanie off his head so he could sink his fingers into the blonde strands. Paul moaned, dropping the crossbow to the floor and pressing into Daryl's warmth. His own fingers found the hunter's vest and started shoving it off his shoulders. It fell to the floor and he ran his fingers over the bare skin, trailing them down the shirt and undoing the buttons as he went. Daryl pulled back from the kiss with a final nip. He smiled warmly. 

Paul chuckled softly, staring up into his husband's adoring eyes. “What?” He panted. 

“Jus'.... forgot how protective ya get.” The hunter whispered. 

The scout smiled back, gently pushing the ratty shirt off Daryl's shoulder. “You're my husband. No one's going to say shit about you while I'm around, especially if they don't personally know you.” He pressed kisses to Daryl's shoulder and up his neck. “You're a good man, Daryl. Your family all know it. I know it. That's all that matters.”

“Paul.... 've done things the last couples years-”

“So have I, Daryl.” Jesus whispered, pausing his ministrations to rest his forehead on his husband's shoulder. “... They don't matter. We're alive. We're here together and that's all I want to focus on.” He closed his eyes tightly, pushing the memories of all the people he's killed away. “You used to get so jealous in the bars we went to. Men would hit on me and the ones that wouldn't go away usually ended up with a black eye.” He felt Daryl chuckle and smiled. 

Daryl swallowed thickly at the memories of their old life. The bar they'd frequented and the friends they'd drink and play pool with. He remembered standing behind Paul and teaching him a particularly hard shot. They kissed again, deep and loving. He pulled Paul away from the door and slowly backed toward the bed. Paul shed his own shirt and then went for Daryl's jeans. They nearly tripped when they stepped out of their shoes, giggling and reaching out to catch each other. Daryl fell back on the bed, kicking his pants off and then shedding his boxers. While Paul took off his own pants and boxers, the hunter squirmed further up on the bed, grinning like an idiot when Paul chased after him, crawling onto the bed and after him like a feline. 

Paul straddled his hips, leaning down and kissing him again. Daryl's hands were on his hips, massaging and gripping, fingers trailing up and down his thighs. His own hands teased the hunter's nipples, pinching and twisting gently, harder when his husband made that sweet sound that told him 'more.' They rocked their hips together, hard cocks leaking pre-cum on Daryl's stomach. The scout trailed his lips down his husband's jaw to his neck, licking and biting his jugular. Daryl growled softly, arching up against him and grabbing his ass, groping those globes and jerking him closer. Paul growled back, sucking the skin in his teeth and leaving a nice dark bruise. 

He sat up and smirked, finger going to the purpled flesh. He chuckled. “Rick's going to tease you about that later?”

“Yeah, well, he ain't gonna say shit cause ya won't be walkin too well.” Daryl smirked, hand wrapping around Paul's cock while a finger teased the scout's hole. 

“Mmn... really? You promise?” He whispered, leaning down to kiss the hunter and bucking his hips into his hand. 

“Yeah... 'n I make good on mah promises.” Daryl growled, nipping Paul's ear while he reached out and fumbled for the lube on the table. They'd used it last night and he trembled remembering how loving and gentle his husband had been with him. His hand wrapped around the half empty bottle and he brought it over to them. 

Paul took hold of it and opened it, squirting a bit on Daryl's fingers. He squirted a bit more on his own hand and then set it aside. He grunted when a finger gently pushed into him. Daryl murmured an apology, but he just kissed him, wrapping his hand around his husband's cock and stroking it. It was hurried, the men spurred on by their lust and passion. Their need for one another boiling their blood and heating their skin. A second finger pushed into him and he moaned, rocking back into it and then forward into Daryl's first. 

“Daryl... c'mon... need you.” Paul whispered. 

The hunter chuckled, letting go of his husband's cock and nipping his ear at the whine it received him. “Not gonna hurt ya, love.”

“You won't...”

“'Sides... ya like bein teased.” Daryl whispered, slowing the thrusts of his fingers, spreading them slowly and bending them to press against Paul's prostate. “'member our honeymoon?” 

Paul shivered and licked his lips. Oh, yes, he remembered. They'd spent a whole day in bed just teasing and bringing one another to completion. He would never forget that first night. Daryl had been merciless and it had been the best sex in his life. They weren't really into bondage. Daryl hated being tied down and was always afraid he would hurt Paul if he'd been the one in cuffs, but the times that they had used cuffs, gags and blindfolds... well, Paul couldn't really fault anyone for needing it all the time. The one time Daryl had allowed Paul to tie him down, the man had passed out from his orgasm. 

A third finger pushed into him, teasing and stretching, rubbing his prostate and then pulling put before pushing back in. They spread apart, thrusting faster and pressing against his prostate relentlessly. Paul moaned and whined, squirming in Daryl's lap, hugging onto his shoulders and biting his neck and shoulder. The fingers pulled out suddenly and the scout's hips were lifted before being dropped back down. The swollen head of his husband's cock pressed against his hole and Paul rocked down on it, forcing it in and gasping at the intrusion.

“Ya okay?” Daryl panted, hands squeezing his husband's hips, trying to stop him from just ramming himself down. 

“'m fine... Daryl, please... need you, love.”

The hunter moaned and let the scout rock down on him. They rocked slowly at first, getting a feel for each other. It'd been a while since Paul had bottomed. They both much preferred him to top, but every once in a while, he enjoyed feeling Daryl inside him and the pleasure it brought. Daryl bent his knees, planting his feet firmly on the mattress to give him leverage to thrust up into the scout. Paul moaned, rocking and grinding harder and faster, reaching back to rest his hands on the hunter's knees. A hand wrapped around his cock, stroking in time with their movements. When that mushroomed head struck his prostate, Paul threw his head back, hair flying wildly, and moaned out his husband's name. 

“Fuck, Daryl... I forgot... how amazing... you feel... mn...”

He was rolled over suddenly, his legs going up on those broad shoulders and Daryl's hips ramming into his own. His own hands flew to the head board, grabbing onto the wood and arching his back. Paul let his moans out freely, lips parted and drying from the constant exhales. His throat began to hurt a bit, but the pleasure overrode it. His hips rocked against the hunter's as best they could with the way he was bent over at the waist. He heard Daryl chuckle suddenly and opened his eyes to look up at him. 

“W-What...?”

“'n he said ya fake it...” The hunter whispered darkly, leaning down to kiss and nip Paul's chest. 

Paul was confused on who his husband was referring to and he didn't care to remember. His cock was leaking a steady stream of pre-cum on his stomach now. All he wanted at that moment was to cum. One hand released the headboard and reached down to wrap around his cock, but a large, calloused hand grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the bed, threading the fingers together. He whined. 

“Daryl... baby, let me cum.”

The hunter purred in his ear. “Ya can cum... ya jus have ta do it on mah cock.” He slowed his thrusts, rocking against the scout slow and gentle. “Ya've done it b'fore... on our honeymoon.” Paul arched against him, tying to get some friction on his swollen member, but bent over at the waist, he couldn't rub against anything. “'member? Yer wrists were handcuffed ta that iron headboard, blindfolded by mah weddin tie, legs up on mah shoulders 'n mah voice in yer ear. Ya was moanin so pretty fer me, jus like ya are now. Bet I could make ya scream mah name 'gain. Hm?” His hips rocked a bit faster, spearing against his husband's prostate again. 

Paul's hips bucked and his thighs tensed. He panted heavily, feeling that tight coil in his core tightening with an impending orgasm. He could feel Daryl's breath against his ear, hear the soft moans and purrs. His other hand released the headboard and reached down, grabbing Daryl's thigh to pull him closer. He felt Daryl shift, spreading his legs a bit wider and bending over him a bit more and thrusting faster into him. 

“C'mon baby, cum fer me... wanna feel ya.” 

Daryl dirty talking in his ear was a rare treat and never failed to bring Paul to release. His nails dug into his husband's thigh as he screamed out the hunter's name. He felt the warm gush of sperm in his channel and knew Daryl had cum as well. He moaned softly, his legs jelly and head fuzzy. Daryl gently lowered his legs and pulled out of him. Gentle fingers pushed the scout's hair from his face and a kiss pressed to his temple and he smiled. 

 

When Paul fell asleep, Daryl got out of bed and used a wet rag to wipe them both down. He got dressed real quick and went out to find Rick. He found his family all sitting together in the library, obviously discussing something important. When Daryl walked in, they all turned their heads and went silent. The hunter crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at them. 

“What?” He growled at them. 

Glenn shoved Rick forward. The leader cleared his throat and slowly approached Daryl. “We've been talkin, Daryl-”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Well, it's been three days and we should really return to Alexandria. We haven't seen or heard from these Hells Angels-”

“Ya callin mah husband a liar, Grimes?”

“No, Daryl. I'm not. We think maybe these bandits found some other community or maybe got lucky and found a store untouched.” Rick placed his hands on his hips, looking into Daryl's eyes. “We think you should stay here with Glenn and Maggie.”

Daryl frowned. “What ya sayin?”

“These people here look up to Jesus. He protects them, offers them advice and helps settles problems. He is literally these people's Savior. We can't take that from them, unless he wants to go to Alexandria.”

“I b'long in Alex...” The hunter trailed off. No. He didn't belong in Alexandria. He belonged with his husband. The only reason he'd been in Alexandria was because that was where his family was. After they'd gotten there, he'd spent more time in the forest hunting and going on runs with Aaron than he had within the walls.

“You belong here with Jesus.” Rick whispered, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. “You can help train these people to fight and hunt. We'll still see each other, Daryl. Glenn and Maggie will be here with you, so you won't be alone. Hell, I think Maggie is planning a mutiny against Gregory.”

“Don't tell him that!” Maggie said, glaring but smiling.

Daryl looked down at his shoes, bangs hiding his eyes. He wanted to return to Alexandria and be with his family, but he'd be unhappy. With Paul, he was happy, he was free to be himself. He opened his mouth to speak, but the building shook suddenly. 

BOOM!

Everyone fell to the ground when the front door and the wall surrounding it exploded open. 

“The fuck was that?!” Abraham yelled, slowly pushing himself up. He looked around, seeing everyone else slowly pushing themselves up as well. 

Everyone's ears were ringing from the explosion. Rick and Daryl helped each other up and turned to the smoking wood that used to be the door to Barrington House. Glenn helped Maggie up, a hand over her belly protectively. He asked her if she was okay and she nodded. They all walked to the opened doorway. The walls around the community were in tact and the gate was shut, but they could hear men shouting and yelling from the other side of the log wall. 

“YA'LL'S DROP IS LATE! WHERE THE FUCK IS OUR FOOD?!”

Rick growled. “It's the bandits.” He hissed to Daryl, who nodded, hands itching for his crossbow which was upstairs in Paul's room. They all walked up to the wall, looking through the holes in the logs at the bandits on the road. “How many d'you see?”

“Eight, maybe ten...” Daryl whispered. “Three cars... ev'ryone's got a gun.”

Rick stepped away from the fence and turned to Abraham. “Still got that grenade launcher?”

“Yeah... s'in the RV.” The red head pointed to the RV near the guard tower.

“Go get it and go to one of the upper windows and fire it at them cars.” Rick turned back to the others as the army sergeant hurried away to do as the man told him. “Everyone else, get a gun and to a window, start firing on them before the use another grenade. We need to get this done and over with before they draw walkers down on us.”

 

The explosion shook Paul awake. He sat up with a jerk and looked around the dark room for his husband. “Daryl..?” His hips ached as he sat up. He could smell smoke and hear screaming from down below. He carefully climbed out of bed and grabbed for his clothes. He dressed quickly, nearly falling a couple times in his rush and grabbed his knife belt and gloves, pulling them on and grabbing Daryl's crossbow. He felt the room, hearing the bandits yelling outside. By the time he made it outside, he saw Rick standing on the porch and his husband no where to be found. “What's going on?”

“The bandits showed up. Their pissed because they haven't received their drop.” Rick whispered. 

“YA FUCKERS BETTER GIVE US DOUBLE THE AMOUNT!”

“Shit..” Paul hissed. “They didn't show up yesterday. We figured they'd moved on or died off.”

“Do they usually show up late?”

“No. This was the first time.”

“GRENADE!”

Someone yelled. Rick and Paul both ducked down, hands over their heads as a grenade flew just over the wall. It exploded not two seconds later, opening their defenses to the bandits who immediately ran in, guns firing off. Their ears rang from the explosion. Rick growled and stood, pulling Jesus with him to the side of the building. He felt a bullet graze his leg and ignored the pain. Several windows broke open and Paul looked up, seeing Rick's family return fire from the upper windows of the house. He leaned against the brick wall of the house next to the deputy. 

“Any plans?” He asked. 

Rick glanced at him. “Was hoping you had one or two.” He said, craning his neck to peek around the corner. A bullet hit the brick near his face and he jerked back. 

“Not sure how well my 'ninja moves' do against ten men with grenades and bullets.”

Rick looked down at his gun, and spotted Daryl's crossbow. “... Y'know how to use that?” He asked, motioning to the weapon. 

Jesus looked down at it. “... A bit. Daryl showed me how a couple times.” He pulled one of the arrows out from the underbelly and notched it, pulling back on the string with all his might. Daryl always made it look so easy.

“They're distracted by the others right now, if we can make it to the shed, we can start fighting back.” Rick said. Jesus nodded in agreement, holding up the crossbow. It was strange, seeing the well-known weapon in the hands of someone other than Daryl. It looked heavier. Paul had to hold it up with two hands. Rick peeked around the corner again. Three of the bandits now lay on the ground. “Ready?” At the scout's nod, the deputy shot off the wall, making his way for the wooden shed. A few bullets hit the ground between them, but each one missed and within seconds, they were behind the safety of the small building. 

Its a very violent battle, gun fire every where, bodies falling left and right. Walkers were attracted by the nose and soon joined the fray. By the end of it, there were nine dead bandits, three dead Hilltop residents and twelve walkers corpses. Everyone worked together to separate the bodies, piling the walkers up to burn and burying the residents. Daryl counted the bandits as they piled them up. He frowned. He saw Rick talking to Gregory and started walking toward him. Gregory saw the hunter coming and hurried away. 

“Rick, we got a problem, brother.”

The leader turned to him. “What is it?”

“We only got nine dead bandits. I think one either ran off'r is hidin somewhere.” Daryl whispered, not wanting to alarm anyone. 

Paul finished burying the last Hilltop resident and looked around. He saw Rick and Daryl talking and smiled. He hasn't been able to talk to his husband since last night when they made love. He gave Wes his shovel to put up and started walking toward them. The pile of dead walkers was next to the hole in the wall the bandits had put with a grenade. He glanced at it, thinking of how they might be able to fix that. He smiled. Daryl would help him figure something out. He returned his attention to his husband and Rick, standing just a few feet away from the walker pile. He held Daryl's crossbow in one hand and the five arrows in his other hand. 

As he neared the talking duo, he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. A walker rolled off the top of the pile and another 'walker' stood. As he turned his head to look, the 'walker' lifted an arm. In it's hand, a pistol glinted off the morning light, aimed at Rick and Daryl. His eyes widened. That's not a walker. He opened his mouth. 

“DARYL!”

BANG!

Daryl's head turned to look at his husband. The bullet passed through his left shoulder and embedded into Rick's right shoulder. Daryl stumbled forward into Rick, sending them both to the ground. 

“NOOOO!” 

Paul ran forward along with several others. He dropped four of the arrows and pulled the string of the crossbow back. He notched the lone arrow in his hand. The bandit began running, but Paul found him in his view point easily. He pulled the trigger and the arrow went flying, meeting the back of the bandit's head. As soon as the bandit fell, he dropped the crossbow and ran over. Rick gently rolled Daryl off of him and Paul knelt down, hands going to the bleeding shoulder. Daryl was conscious, but only barely. 

“Daryl... Daryl, baby... stay with me...” Paul sobbed, pressing down on the wound. 

Michonne knelt at Rick's other side, her own hand going to his wound. “Rick, you alright?”

“Yeah... but it's still in there, I can feel it.” The leader groaned. “Daryl?” He reached for Daryl's hand, gripping it tightly. “Brother.... you okay?”

Paul watched Daryl's eyes slowly close, his grip on Rick's hand loose. “Baby, no... no, you look at me!” He sobbed harder. “HARLAN! HARLAN, PLEASE!”

The doctor came rushing out of his trailer, a bag in his hand. He pushed through the throng of people surrounding the bleeding pair on the ground. He knelt at Paul's side. “Jesus, I need you to move.” When Paul refused, he looked around. “Someone needs to get him so I can take a look.”

Abraham stepped forward, pausing when Paul's furious, tearful gaze landed on him. He'd seen this small guy take on a man nearly twice his size no problem. “If you try to pull me away from my injured husband, I will snap your wrists in half.” The man growled at the soldier. Abraham put his hands up and backed away. Jesus looked away from him and slowly crawled around to kneel at Daryl's head. He moved his hands, taking hold of the hunter's cheeks in his bloody fingers. Harlan cut away Daryl's shirt so he could examine the wound. 

“It was a through and through...” Rick groaned, sitting up with Michonne's help. “The bullet is in my shoulder.”

Harlan nodded. “We need to get you two in my trailer and off the ground.” He stood up and helped Paul lift Daryl and carry him to the trailer. “Paul, I'm going to need help. Can you do that?” He asked as they laid Daryl on one of the tables. Paul nodded, swallowing thickly. “Alright. We need to stop the bleeding and clean the wound, and then get it sewn up. Alex, go ahead and get that bullet out of Mr. Grimes there, and keep an eye for blood poisoning.” 

Alex nodded and turned to Rick, having him sit down so he could look at the bullet wound. Together, Harlan and Jesus managed to stop Daryl's bleeding and get the wound clean and sewn up. After he washed his hands, Paul took a wet rag to Daryl's cheeks, gently wiping the blood off. His husband was pale, but not terribly so. He finished cutting the shirt off Daryl's torso. No reason to save it. He threw the material away and then wiped off the man's torso. 

Rick soon walked over, a fresh shirt on over his own bandage. “How is he?” He laid down one of Daryl's shirts on a chair nearby. 

“Harlan says he'll be alright.” Paul whispered. “He passed out from the shot. Harlan says he was already exhausted, so the trauma of the bullet just pushed him past his body past its limit. Once he wakes and Harlan checks him over... I want him to go to Alexandria with you. He'll be safe there while he recuperates. With a hole in the wall, it's too dangerous here.”

Rick put his hands on his hips. “Actually... Gregory and I were talking about that. There's enough room at Alexandria for all of Hilltop's residents who can't fight. They're welcome to come to Alexandria until your wall is repaired.”

Jesus looked over at him. “Are you serious?”

The leader nodded. “Yes. Sasha, Rosita, Glenn and Abraham will stay here. Help protect the place and rebuild your wall. I do agree with you that Daryl should come back with us, but... you do realize the only way he'll do that is if you come back as well.”

Paul looked down at his husband. “I can't... I can't just leave Hilltop the way it is.”

“Jesus, there's nothing you can do for it right now. All your people will be in Alexandria with us.” Rick placed a hand on Paul's shoulder. “Just come back with us. You can make frequent trips to and from to check on it.”

“Listen ta the man, Paul... he actually makes sense ev'ry once in a while.”

Both their eyes turned down to the injured hunter who was smirking up at them. He sat up slowly, groaning at his injured shoulder. He shifted himself onto the edge of the table, legs hanging off. 

“Daryl... you okay, brother?” Rick nodded at him. 

“'m good... could deal without the hole in mah shoulder, but I'll be fine.” Daryl nodded back and they shook hands and hugged gingerly before Rick walked out of the trailer. The hunter turned his gaze to his husband, who was staring at the bloody rag in his hand. “Paul..?” 

“I... you just... you went down. That bullet passed through you and you went down... there was so much blood.” The tears fell again, sliding down his cheeks and landing on his shirt. 

Daryl reached for him, taking his hands and pulling him closer between his legs. Paul's arms went around his waist as he cried into the hunter's uninjured shoulder. “'m okay, Paul.” He whispered, rocking him gently and petting his long hair. “I'mma be fine. Ya know me... I been through worse shit than a gun shot.” Paul nodded against his shoulder. Daryl gently pushed him away, hands on his shoulders. “We goin ta Alexandria?” Paul looked down. “Any way I can convince ya ta come back wit me?”

“Daryl... I need to stay here. I need to make sure the wall and trailers are repaired. I trust your family, I do, but this is my home. It's my responsibility.”

Daryl nodded in understanding. “I get that.” He stood off the table. 

Paul blinked at him. “You're... not mad?”

“Paul, ya've always been like this. I knew from the very start ya would want ta stay here. Like ya said, it's yer home, yer responsibility. I know ya ain't gonna let me stay while 'm injured, so, as soon as 'm all healed up, I'mma come back 'ere 'n help ya fix shit. Gimme two weeks.” The hunter smiled, grabbing the shirt from the chair.

“Three... two weeks is not nearly enough to heal from a gun shot wound.”

They stared each other down, Daryl buttoning his shirt and Paul pulling his hair back into a bun.

“... Two weeks 'n three days...”

“Four days...”

Daryl smirked. “Fine... four days 'n ya ride me 'gain when I get back.”

Paul smirked back, stepping closer. “It's a date.” He leaned up, kissing Daryl deeply. 

The hunter kissed back, hands going to Paul's back and holding him close. They kissed deeply for several minutes. Harlan came in and looked Daryl over real quick. He gave him the all clear to return to Alexandria, but with strict instructions to alert Denise of his injury as soon as he arrived. Paul walked him to his motorcycle. Hilltop residents were already being loaded into cars and the RV to be transported to Alexandria.

“You're sure you can drive it with stitches?”

“Baby, I'll be fine.” He mounted the bike and then looked at Paul. “Ya gonna come see me?” He whispered, ignoring all the eyes on them.

“Of course... you can't go too long without me. I honestly think you'd go crazy without me, now.” Paul smiled. 

Daryl chuckled. “Vice versa, Paul.” He reached for Paul's belt, gently pulling him closer. Michonne leaned out of the RV door, watching them with a grin. “Ya be careful.... I ain't 'ere ta watch yer back. Don't be afraid ta ask the others fer help, a'ight?”

“Yes, dear.” The scout whispered, leaning down to kiss him. Cat calls and wolf whistles echoed around them. They pulled away from the kiss slowly, glaring at the people around them.

“Do it again!” Michonne yelled. 

“With tongue!” Maggie added. 

Paul started leaning further away, but Daryl's hand grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a deeper kiss. The scout moaned in surprise, leaning into the kiss and threading his fingers into Daryl's hair. More cat calls and wolf whistles echoed around them. Paul slowly pulled away. 

“I'll miss you...”

“Come see me in three days 'n I'll show ya what yer missin every night.” The hunter whispered. Paul chuckled softly and stepped back as Daryl's started the bike. 

The scout watched as one by one, the cars containing Hilltop residents drove away toward Alexandria. It was going to be hard, being away from his husband after just getting him back. He was only a couple hours away, but they'd never been more than half a day apart since they'd found each other. He crossed his arms over his chest, observing the mess around him. With a heavy heart, he began to pick up the yard. Sasha and Abraham were on guard. Those that stayed came over to start helping clean up their home.


	3. Ch. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Paul reminisce

Paul had been at work for barely ten minutes when they first walked in. They were aggressive looking, especially the bigger, bald one. He watched them cautiously as they made their way to the corner by the pool tables and juke box. They were greeted by the other three bikers, shaking hands and laughing at inside jokes. The smaller man was quieter, choosing instead to sit at one of the tables against the wall and glancing around the room in paranoia. Their eyes met and Paul's heart leaped into his throat. He swallowed thickly and looked away, setting about to wiping the bar top down. 

They were a rowdy bunch the more they drank, but no one paid them attention. It was a Friday night, the football game was on, so everyone was being rowdy. It exhausted Paul to the bone. He worked fast, filling drink orders and getting buckets of beer bottles put together. He hated Friday night football games. It brought all the drunken fans into the bar. Finally, one of the drunken jerks at his bar top left and he sighed, wiping it down real quick. As he washed the cup off, another sat down and he groaned inwardly. He turned, mouth opening to ask for his drink order, and faltered when striking blue eyes met him, the flame from the man's lighter lit his face up handsomely.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” The man rasped, smirking a bit as he took the cigarette from between his lips and held it between his dirty fingers. 

Paul flushed and set the clean glass aside. “Sorry... um... what can I get you?”

“Rum 'n coke.”

The bartender nodded and turned, grabbing a glass and filling it up real quick. He set it down with a napkin. “They get too rowdy for you?”

“Merle's bein an ass... needed a break 'n a smoke.”

“Doesn't help that it's football night, huh?” Paul smiled, leaning on the bar a bit. 

“Nah, don't care fer sports. NASCAR is 'bout the only sport I can stand.”

“Got a thing for cars?”

“I fix 'em, so... I guess.” He shrugged, taking a sip of the drink. 

“You're a mechanic?” Paul leaned a bit closer when excited yelling came from the group in front of the TV.

“Yeah... work at Dale's Shop down on 16th. 'n no, don't care that yer engine's been makin a clickin noise.”

Paul laughed. “Don't worry, it's not. My car works perfectly fine.” He grinned, winking. “Though, I wouldn't mind seeing you under the hood all sweaty and shirtless.” The flush that colored the man's cheeks made Paul smile more. 

“Daryl!” Merle yelled over the crowd. “Git yer ass back o'er 'ere so I's can kick it at pool!”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Ass never beats me at pool.” He grabbed his drink and stood up. “Thanks...” He mumbled and walked away.

Paul watched him go, almost asking him to come back. “... Daryl, hm?” He smiled and turned away to clean more glasses.

Daryl and Merle become frequent customers, coming in just about every Friday and Saturday night, nights that Paul always worked. From watching them, Paul learned that Merle was definitely the loud and aggressive one while Daryl preferred to keep quiet and drink his beer or rum and coke in silence. He'd joke with them and rib others when he kicked their asses at pool, but he was otherwise kind. Paul also learned that Daryl had an oral fixation. He always had to have something in his mouth, be it a cigarette, toothpick or his own thumb nail.

Every now and then, Daryl would come up to the bar and sit with Paul. They would talk, or Paul would talk and Daryl would listen, maybe make an off-hand comment every now and then. Mostly, he just smoked a cigarette and drank his rum and coke. Paul liked to flirt with him, make him blush and, sometimes, the mechanic would give a little smile. He rarely ever smiled, the bartender noticed. When he did, it was warm and sweet, and it sent his heart aflutter. 

“Ya always flirt wit yer customers?” Daryl asked one night.

“Hm?” Paul smirked, setting a clean glass down to dry. “Why? Jealous?” Daryl scowled and glanced away. That was a yes. The bartender chuckled. “No, only with you. I can't help it. Your red cheeks are just to endearing.” 

“Stop...” Daryl groaned, hiding his face in his shoulder. 

Paul smiled, leaning across the bar. “Do you really want me to stop?” He asked softly. 

The mechanic glanced at him. “No.” He muttered.

“Good, cause I'm not sure I can.” He chuckled and stood straight. “Refill?”

“Nah. Fixin ta head out, take Merle's drunk ass home.”

Paul felt a little disappointed, but he nodded. “Water, then?” He was already filling a glass with some water and setting it in front of the man before he could respond. 

Football season passed and the bar was quiet finally. It gave Paul a chance to really clean up behind the bar, wiping the shelves down and the mirror behind it. There was only a few customers. A group of college boys playing pool, some girls celebrating a 21st birthday and a lone man sitting at the end of the bar. The bell above the door rang out when someone walked in and Paul stepped down off his stool, dropping the rag into a bucket. He turned, smiling when Daryl walked up alone. 

“By yourself today?” He asked, washing his hands real quick.

“Yeah.” The mechanic, rasped, taking a seat right in front of Paul. “Merle's got a date tonight.”

“Meaning sex?” Paul chuckled. 

“Ain't goin anywhere near the house fer a few hours.” He seemed to want to say something else, but he refrained. 

“Rum and coke?” At the other man's nod, he grabbed a glass and poured the drinks in, adding a cinnamon toothpick.

Daryl raised an eyebrow at him, but smirked a bit and grabbed the toothpick, giving it a lick before resting it in the corner of his lips so he could take a sip of the drink. Paul's eyes widened a bit and his cheeks pinked a bit. 

“You always a tease?” The bartender asked, leaning on his elbows, inching his face closer to Daryl's. 

“Only fer ya.” He said with a wink. Paul's heart raced as Daryl leaned forward as well. 

“Excuse me?” A soft voice came from their left and Paul leaned away, smiling at the girl. 

“What can I get you?”

Daryl took another drink from his rum and coke, trying to slow his pounding heart. He watched Paul fill the girl's drink order, chatting and smiling politely at her. When the girl walked away, Paul returned to him and smiled. 

“So, tell me... did you come here because you missed me? It's alright. I won't judge.” He winked, chuckling when Daryl blushed. “I'm glad you came, Daryl. I really am.” That tiny smiled warmed him and he smiled back, leaning on the bar again. 

Merle came back with Daryl the next night, and the next Friday and Saturday as well. Daryl didn't come alone again for another two weeks; but, when he did, he was dressed nicely. He was clean and those jeans hugged his hips and legs, making Paul's mouth water. When Daryl sat down, he smiled shyly at Paul.

“Hey.” It was the first time Daryl greeted him first. 

“Hey.” Paul swallowed thickly, clearing his throat when it squeaked. “Merle on a 'date'?”

“Nah... he's at another bar with the guys. Some fancy place wit more pool tables 'n less college kids.” Daryl lit up a cigarette, glancing up at the bartender. 

“Ah... yeah, Woodbury or whatever it's called. Not your kind of place?” Paul smiled, happy Daryl came here instead.

“Nah, buncha dick bags over there, playin that rap 'n hip hop crap. Like this place... got the best juke box.”

“Oh, you come for the juke box?” Paul chuckled. “What am I? Chopped liver?” He leaned on the bar, grinning like a loon.

“Guess yer nice ta look at. Drinks aren't half bad, either.” Daryl leaned forward as well, keeping his cigarette to the side away from Paul's shirt.

“Well, I'm glad you think so.” Paul smiled shyly, heart swelling. Daryl had just said he was attractive.

They talked for a bit while Paul worked to clean behind the bar. Daryl mentioned he and Merle used to travel around, never staying in one place for too long. He'd enjoyed it, riding around on his bike, feeling the wind in his hair and watching the scenery pass by. They'd settled down in Atlanta after Merle was diagnosed with leukemia. He was three years into his remission. The illness had changed Merle's outlook on life. He was less violent, more friendly and open to relationships than he used to be. He was actually hitting his two year mark with his current girlfriend, a biker chick named Trixie with a five year old daughter. While his hair had never grown back, he was alright with it, enjoying his bald look.

“So, do you till have your bike?” Paul asked with a grin. 

Daryl raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah? Why?”

Paul set the glass he'd been cleaning down and leaned forward. “I get off at 3... wanna take me for a ride?”

The mechanic tensed a bit, blushing to his ears. He licked his lips. He'd come here intending to ask Paul out. His palms were clammy and his heart raced. His throat closed up and he couldn't speak. 

The bartender leaned back, studying the man's reaction. His heart dropped a bit. “I-I'm kidding, Daryl. You'll probably be asleep by the time I get off.” He turned away, sighing a bit. 

Daryl left a little while later, mumbling about checking on Merle and then heading home. Paul watched him leave and cursed himself for acting too soon. Last call was at 1:30 and he shooed everyone out at 2. He cleaned all the glasses and then wipe down all the tables. His coworker swept and mopped the floor after counting the register. They shut the lights off and stepped outside. Paul locked the door and turned, squinting when a motorcycle pulled up. His heart pounded as the bike died down and the headlights shut off. 

“Daryl?”

His coworker waved goodbye and got in his car, driving off. Daryl dismounted the bike and walked up to him. 

“Did ya... still wanna go fer a ride?” He sounded so nervous and scared, Paul couldn't help smiling and teasing him. 

“I don't know. Do you have protection?”

“I got an extra helmet, yeah.”

The bartender chuckled and walked up to him. “I like you, Daryl.” He whispered, reaching up to pet Daryl's cheek. They felt warm under his hands as the mechanic blushed. 

“Like ya, too, Paul.” Daryl's voice was soft and warm. His hands were hesitant, holding Paul's hips so gently, as if he was scared of being too rough. 

They leaned into each other, kissing softly and carefully. Daryl's lips were wet from licking them a lot and Paul moaned at the taste of the mechanic. He threaded his fingers through the short brown strands of Daryl's hair, gripping gently as the kiss deepened.

 

Paul woke to the sound of an ax hitting wood. The fence was almost finished, so he felt safer leaving everyone behind while he went to Alexandria. He smiled warmly and rolled onto his side, the memory of meeting Daryl and their first kiss warmed his soul. He missed his husband and couldn't wait to see him again. The devastation of hearing about the bombing of Atlanta had left him numb. When he'd first seen Daryl and Rick, he'd denied that the man in the vest was Daryl. He'd barely come to terms with the fact that he'd never see his beautiful husband again.

Then the man had said his name. 

'Paul..'

Paul knew then and there that this man was indeed his long lost husband. When he'd touched his face, pushed those long locks away from Daryl's eyes, the love and warmth in them made him cry. Kissing him again, after two years, felt like that very first kiss. When they first met, he'd never imagined Daryl would ever want to be with him, but then the mechanic had started flirting and teasing back. It wasn't until they met that Paul ever looked forward to going to work. 

With a renewed vigor, the scout climbed out of bed and took a quick shower. He got dressed and packed a bag before heading downstairs and out the door. He was greeted by Rosita and Sasha. 

“Heading out, Jesus?” Sasha said, meeting him at the gate. 

“Yeah. Daryl's probably getting restless and causing Rick headaches.” Jesus smiled.

The woman chuckled. “Its just unbelievable. You two make a cute couple, though.”

He winked at her. “We get that a lot.” He said as he climbed into the car. The gate opened and he drove through it. 

 

Paul waited nervously for Daryl to show up at the restaurant. His leg bounced nervously while he played with his napkin. This would be their third date. They didn't normally meet in public, but Daryl said he wanted to treat Paul to something really nice instead of just take out and trips out to the lake. Paul had agreed on the condition that after dinner, they still go for a ride on the man's bike. Daryl grumbled something about Paul being obsessed with the machine, but had smiled and blushed. 

The chair on the other side of the table moved and Paul looked up, smiling as Daryl sat across from him. “Sorry 'm late... Merle was bein an ass cause Trixie's outta town visitin her folks. Maybe if he'd treat 'er better, she'd'a stayed.”

Paul smiled and reached for his hand. “It's alright. I haven't been waiting long.” He smiled more when Daryl held his hand shyly. “How was work today?”

“S'fine... Dale's talkin bout makin me assistant manager.”

“Really? Daryl, that's amazing!” Paul tried to sound excited and happy, but it came out strained. Daryl must have noticed, because he frowned and squinted at him. 

“S'goin on wit ya? Ya seem off tanight.”

The bartender licked his lip, releasing Daryl's hand to open the envelope he had sitting on the table. “I've been offered a full ride at the Art Institute of Virginia Beach.”

Daryl blinked, then leaned back a bit. “What?”

Paul nodded, swallowing thickly. “Yeah. There must've been a scout or something at my class' art expo last month. They want me to come in fall.” 

The mechanic seemed unsure of what to say. He looked down at the table, bringing his thumb up to gnaw on the nail. “Are ya... gonna accept it?”

“... Yes. It's a dream come true for me.”

Daryl nodded. “... When're ya leavin?”

“... Next month.” He reached for Daryl's hand, gently pulling it away from his mouth and holding it. “Daryl, I really like you. I... I want us to try long distance, but... if you meet someone-”

“Why don't I come wit ya?”

Paul balked, mouth hanging open in shock. “Come... with me?”

“Yeah. I mean... 'less ya don't... want me ta.”

“But... what about Merle and your job?” Paul's heart raced. He'd been worried Daryl would be mad and break up with him on the spot.

Daryl waved a hand to brush the concern away. “Trixie can handle Merle fine. 'n Dale... Dale's got a friend who's got an auto shop up in Virginia Beach... maybe I can ask him ta transfer me'r somethin.”

“Are you sure? We've only been on two dates, we still barely know each other. Why would you risk it?

Daryl blushed a bit, looking down. “Paul... yer the best thang ta ever happen ta me. I know we're gonna have our differences 'n fight 'n shit... but... I don't want... I don't wanna miss anythang.” He glanced up, meeting Paul's warm stare. “I wanna be able ta see yer smile, wanna be able ta look at ya 'n know yer mine, that here ain't no one else who can kiss ya 'n hold yer hand 'n cuddle ya while watchin terrible movies.”

If Paul didn't know any better, he'd think Daryl was proposing. The artist bit his bottom lip, willing away tears. “Daryl... that's beautiful.” The mechanic blushed and looked away again. “... Okay. If you're really sure... will you come to Virginia Beach with me?” 

“I dunno... gonna have ta check wit mah other boyfriends.” Daryl smirked. 

Paul laughed, releasing Daryl's hand. “Oh, really? Your other boyfriends?” He stood from the table and came around to Daryl's side. He caught sight of Daryl's wide grin before their lips met. 

 

Daryl stared out at the road from his position atop the guard tower. Maggie stood next to him, Glenn's hat on her head and a bottle of water in her hand. 

“Is he coming today?” She asked softly. 

“... I hope so.” Daryl rasped, glancing at her. 

She smiled sweetly. “Your cute together. Big, tough biker dude and the little ninja negotiator. How'd ya'll meet?”

Daryl blushed a bit and returned his eyes to the rode. “... Paul worked at a bar in Atlanta where Merle 'n I used ta frequent. Didn't matter how unresponsive I was... he'd flirt 'n talk wit me anytime I's at the bar. Thought he was jus tryin ta get good tips, but... when I started watchin 'im with his other customers. He was polite 'n friendly with 'em, but... he never once used some cheesy pick-up line on 'em 'r gave them that... warm, sincere smile that he always gave me. I started flirtin back 'n... he was shocked at first, but... he seemed happy, so I kept flirtin 'n teasin... one night he asked me ta take 'im a ride on mah bike.” Daryl grinned and chuckled. “Found out later it was a sexual comment.” 

Maggie giggled. “So, ya'll have been together since?”

Daryl looked down with a smile at his ring. “Yeah... we moved ta Virginia so he could go ta school, made a home out of a cabin... we's happy.”

“What happened? How did you get separated?”

“I's visiting Merle when the outbreak started. They shut down all the roads and planes... I couldn't get home. The only text I ever got from him before the satellites went down was 'I love you'.” His throat closed up, remembering the fear and panic he felt when he couldn't get through to Paul on the phone. The thought of losing his husband, of never seeing his beautiful smile or watching him paint had numbed him. 

A rumbling in the distance made them both look out. Daryl's heart raced, seeing the Chrysler driving up. He climbed down the ladder and opened the gate, allowing the scout entry. He closed the gate as the car came to a stop and the scout got out. Maggie leaned over to watch them, smiling as they hugged tightly. 

Paul pulled back slowly. “How's your shoulder?”

“S'fine. Any trouble on yer way here?” 

“No.” The scout smiled. “Everything's fine.”

The hunter nodded, stepping back. “I'm on guard duty til dusk. Ya can go rest at the house if ya want.”

Paul nodded and leaned forward, kissing him lovingly. “See you tonight?” When Daryl nodded, he let go of his hand and got back into the car, driving it to Daryl's house. When he got into the house, he took his boots and jacket off and immediately went into the bedroom. He looked around, smiling at the clothes laying everywhere. Daryl had never quite been one for cleanliness. He chuckled and started picking up the dirty clothes, dropping them in a hamper. For once, it didn't make him mad. It was endearing.


	4. Ch. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm beginning to think this story is just going to be fluff and smut... I can't really think of a plot line for it. I don't want to keep going with one gets injured and the other gets scared or something like that, so... I might make ch. 5 the last chapter. If you guys want to see something in it, let me know.

Past:

The apartment was tiny, but it was the best they could afford. Daryl would be the only one working since Paul would be attending school full time. It didn't take them long to move in. Neither of them had many possessions, mostly because Daryl didn't have very many wants or needs and Paul really only collected art supplies and books. Of course, when Daryl saw the amount of books and paints, he'd stared in shock and confusion. 

“How the hell we gonna fit all these damn books in the apartment?” He'd asked. 

Paul merely shrugged. 

“S'a damn fire hazard.” Daryl had grumbled, picking up one of the heavy boxes. He was already sweaty and flushed from the heat and moving other boxes. He'd removed his outer shirt and wrapped it around his waist, leaving him in a white tank top that was practically see through from his sweat. His nipples were poking against the cotton.

Paul hadn't heard a word the man had said, his eyes immediately tracing over his boyfriend's bare biceps. The artists swallowed thickly. His boyfriend was too damn sexy. They'd ended up purchasing two book shelves with Daryl's first full paycheck. More like Daryl had bought them without Paul knowing. Paul had been mad at first. That wasn't money that they could spend fleetingly; but, he'd been touched that Daryl had gone out of his way to buy them, put them together, and put the books up in his special order. He'd been touched that Daryl had even remembered how Paul likes his books to be ordered. When he realized Daryl had done that, he'd yanked the man down into a deep kiss, barely letting him up for air. 

After their first month living together, Daryl was starting to relax. He'd been so nervous their first night together. Paul seriously thought he would walk out with how nervous and anxious he was. Instead, the mechanic just fixed things around the place. He fixed a hole in the dry wall. He fixed the bathroom door knob and even the bathroom shower head. Paul enjoyed watching him work. His boyfriend was very good with his hands, so good that it sent dirty thoughts into the artist's mind. Of course, nothing had happened their first night sharing a bed. Daryl was too shy and nervous. He'd barely been able to cuddle Paul without fidgeting. 

Paul was barely into his second week at college and he already loved all his classes. He didn't mind that he already had like three projects due and tests coming up. He was just so ecstatic that he'd gotten into his dream college. He may be living paycheck to paycheck, but he was happy. Daryl was an amazing boyfriend. He was shy and had a bit of a temper, but he's been supportive and takes care of everything so Paul can concentrate. 

“Jesus!”

Paul looked up from his sketch, a piece of jerky hanging from his teeth. Two of his class mates walked over to his table in the cafeteria of the school. He grinned and reached up, taking the food out of his mouth and swallowing. “Hey, guys!”

The two boys sat across from him. Tom was a cute, lanky man with short brown hair and brown eyes. One his back was his guitar case which he seems to carry around everywhere with him. Beside him was Ian, a quieter boy with glasses and a shy smile. He seemed to be constantly listening to music. 

“What're you doing after your next class, Jesus?” Tom asked, stealing a piece of Paul's jerky. “Holy shit, this is good! Where'd you get this?”

Paul grinned proudly. “It's deer jerky. My boyfriend made it.” He wasn't ashamed to admit his sexuality. He was proud of his boyfriend's talents.

“He made it?! Does he hunt?” Tom handed Ian a piece. “Dude, taste this!” Ian chewed it carefully and thoughtfully, then nodded in agreement that it was good. 

Paul smiled, glad his first two friends didn't seem to care about his sexuality. “Yeah! He's amazing!”

Tom nodded. “So, what're you doing after your next class?”

“I'll be heading home.” Paul replied, looking back down at his sketch. Daryl seemed to be a large source of inspiration for him lately. “Daryl's working late tonight, so I was going to surprise him with dinner. He's been the one cooking here lately and I feel bad.”

“Is Daryl your boyfriend?” Ian asked, speaking so softly that, if Paul didn't have a boyfriend who tended to speak just as softly sometimes, he wouldn't have heard him.

“Yeah... we've only been together a couple months... he took a big risk moving here with me.” Paul smiled and resumed his sketch of Daryl sleeping in this morning. He looked up at Tom. “Why do you ask?”

Tom shrugged. “We were just wanting to hang out with you, get to know you a bit. We're both new to the city, too.”

Paul nodded in understanding. It was hard making friends in a new school and in a new city. “My apartment's tiny, but if you two want to come over for a few hours, I think that should be fine.” He hoped Daryl wouldn't mind. 

Tom grinned. “Awesome. Meet you by Building D in a couple hours?”

Paul nodded and watched them leave. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and sent Daryl a text. 'Having a couple new friends over tonight. Is that alright?' He set it aside, knowing Daryl might not be able to text right away. When he did, it was with a cryptic message. 

'Ain't gonna tell you no for wanting to have friends over, Paul.'

Paul stared down at it. Was that a yes? Was Daryl mad? Did he not want people over tonight? He sent the mechanic another text. 'Is that a yes or a no?' Daryl hadn't responded by the time his class finished, so he went over to Building D and smiled at his new friends. 

“Hey!” Tom grinned. “Ready? I was thinking Ian and I could just follow you in my car.”

Paul nodded. “That's fine.” He got in his own car and drove slowly so Tom didn't lose sight of him. When they got to his apartment, Daryl still hadn't responded, so Paul let them in and tossed his keys onto the table. “Like I said, it's small.”

“Shit, man... mine's smaller than this and I share it with my brother and his girlfriend.” Tom laughed. “You've got a lot of books.” He walked over to the book shelf while Ian sat down on the small couch.

Paul set his back pack down. “Yeah... I'm a literature fanatic. Daryl was not impressed when he saw how many I have.” He chuckled. “You guys want anything to drink? I've got water and... well... water.”

Ian shook his head and Tom nodded. “I'll take some water.” He watched Paul go to the kitchenette in the corner. “So... how'd you and Daryl meet?”

“I used to work at a bar in Georgia... he and his brother were frequent fliers. I'm talking every weekend I worked they were there.” Paul filled a glass with water and brought it over to Tom. “He was so shy, I couldn't help flirting with him. I thought he wasn't interested, but then he shows up one night as I'm closing up and asks me if I wanted to take a ride with him on his bike.”

“He's got a bike?!” Tom grinned excitedly. “Is it in the parking lot?”

Paul chuckled. “Yes, and no. He takes it to work while I take the car to school. Stick it around long enough and maybe he'll show it off to you when he gets him. He's damned proud of it. He built it from scraps himself.”

After talking a while longer, they all sat in a circle on the floor, sketch books out and chatting excitedly about their classes. Hours went by and Paul was surprised when the door opened and Daryl stepped in, bare arms dirty with engine grease and rust. The mechanic stopped short, seeing the two men on his living room floor. He turned his gaze to Paul, who was staring at him nervously. 

“Hey, baby...” Paul whispered. “Uh... this is Tom and Ian. We have a few classes together.”

Daryl stepped further in and shut the door. “... 'ey.” He muttered. “... Sorry I didn't text ya back... we got busy.”

Paul stood and smiled. “It's alright.” He was relieved Daryl didn't seem mad. “Are you hungry? We were talking about pooling our money together and ordering pizza.” He walked up to his boyfriend, reaching to hold his hands. 

Daryl stepped out of his reach. “Yeah... sounds fine.” He by passed Paul, heading for their bedroom. 

Paul bit his bottom lip. Okay.... maybe he is mad. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He tossed a ten to Tom. “Order whatever you guys want... within reason.” He raised an eyebrow at Tom's grin before turning and going into the bedroom. He shut the door. “Daryl?” The bathroom door was open a crack, so he walked over to it and pushed it open. “Are you-” He stopped, staring at the scars littering his boyfriend's back.

Daryl tensed and looked over his shoulder. “... Paul... ain't ya ever heard of knocking?”

“... Is that why you won't ever take your shirt off around me?” Paul stepped further into the room. 

Daryl's glare didn't deter him. “Don't wanna talk about it.” The mechanic turned to the shower, reaching to turn it on. 

“Daryl... please...” Paul whispered. “Are you... mad at me?”

The shower head sputtered, then finally rained water down. Daryl grunted and turned to Paul. “Ain't mad at ya.”

Paul looked up into Daryl's blue eyes, searching for the truth. No, he wasn't mad. He was insecure. “You think those scars will scare me off.” He stepped forward when Daryl looked down nervously. “Daryl, that's so silly.” He smiled, reaching up to lightly touch the mechanic's chest, feeling the light scattering of brown hairs. “I'm not going to force you to tell me about them, but I do want you to know that they don't frighten me, or disgust me. If anything, they tell me just how strong you are.” He carefully wrapped his arms around Daryl's waist, resting his hands over the scars. 

Daryl tensed, clenching his fists at his side. Paul's hands were warm and gentle. His breath was soft against Daryl's neck, his hair brushing against Daryl's chin. The mechanic took a deep breath and relaxed, bringing his own arms to wrap around Paul's shoulders. He held his boyfriend close and tight, breathing in his scent and nuzzling into his warmth. He could feel Paul's fingers tracing the scars and he shivered. 

Paul leaned back after a couple minutes. “If I didn't have company, I'd be getting in that shower with you.” He whispered, sliding his hands lower. He grinned at the blush crawling across his boyfriend's cheeks. “Another time, I guess.” He kissed Daryl softly, then tried to step away. 

Daryl's arm wound around Paul's waist. He yanked the artist back into his chest. His other hand cupped Paul's cheek to keep his head tilted for a deep kiss. Paul moaned in surprise, but fell into Daryl's chest easily. Daryl had never kissed him like this before. It was full of passion and want, almost urgent in the mechanic's haste to show Paul just how he felt. His teeth were gentle when they nipped Paul's lips. His tongue was agile, licking into the artist's mouth and coercing Paul's tongue into a dance. Paul's lips were swollen and wet by the time Daryl pulled back. The mechanic seemed quite pleased with himself as he stared at Paul's pink cheeks. 

Paul flushed deeper, feeling the subtle tent in Daryl's jeans. Daryl's eyes were dark with lust, his eyelids hooded over them as they gazed down at Paul. Paul swallowed thickly. That gaze was doing things to him like nothing ever had. He needed to leave before he did something he regretted. “I-I should... go back out there.” He stumbled back, nearly slamming into the partially opened door on his way out. He could feel Daryl's amused gaze as he left the room. He closed the bedroom door, still a bit dazed from the amazing kiss. 

 

Present:

Paul woke up from a gentle kiss on his lips. He blinked his eyes open, smiling at the curtain of dark hair above him. Daryl was warm against his side. “Hey...” The scout mumbled softly.

Daryl smiled. “'ey, sleepin beauty. Ya fell asleep on the couch.” 

“Well, a certain someone was taking forever to come wake me from my curse.” Paul grinned, reaching up to run his fingers through the dark strands. “You really do look handsome with long hair.”

Daryl blushed a bit. “... Ya think so?”

“Mmhm...” He gripped the strands gently, nudging him down for a kiss. Daryl resisted, a grin slowly spreading across his lips. When Paul pouted, he leaned down to kiss him, but veered to the right, nipping Paul's ear instead. Paul let out a laugh. “Daryl!” He whined out, arms winding around his husband's broad shoulders. 

Daryl laughed and leaned up from Paul's ear. He reached a hand up, tracing Paul's lower lip with his thumb. He stared down at his husband in amusement and affection. “I love you...” He whispered.

Paul smiled warmly. His fingers stroked through the dark strands. “I love you.” He whispered back. His eyes flicked down to Daryl's lips. “... You gonna kiss me or not?”

Daryl smirked. “Maybe... maybe not.”

The scout pouted. “Please...?”

“Well... since ya asked so nicely.” He surged down, kissing Paul with the same depth and passion as that kiss in the bathroom of their first apartment. 

Paul moaned, tilting his head just so to deepen the kiss even more. He sighed blissfully, parting his lips for Daryl's tongue. Daryl's hand traveled from his chin down to his neck, stroking lightly before continuing down to his chest. A fingertip rubbed his nipple over the cotton of his shirt. He shivered, arching up into the touch. His own hand slid down the back of the archer's shirt, scraping his nails across the taut skin of Daryl's back. The archer let out a soft growl, the noise rumbling against Paul's hand. Daryl leaned up, lips wet and swollen. He licked them. His eyes were dark with lust. 

“Mmn...” Paul smiled. “I love that look...”

“What look?”

“That look you get after a really nice kiss... your eyes get all dark and predatorial... makes me feel like your prey.”

Daryl grinned. “How come ya ain't ever told me that b'fore?”

The scout giggled. “I didn't want you to get embarrassed and self-conscious.” He traced the scar under his fingers lightly, delighting in the shiver he felt Daryl's spine give in response. Daryl smiled and rested their foreheads together. “You first looked at me like that in the bathroom of our first apartment after I saw your scars. I wanted to just... tear my clothes off, kneel down and present myself to you for your use.”

Daryl grinned and blushed a bit. “Yeah.. that wouldn't've ended well.”

Jesus grinned. “Which is why I ran and kept it a secret until now.” He pulled Daryl down into another kiss. “And if I ever see you looking at someone like that, I may just lose my mind and go on a killing spree.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow. “Who the fuck am I gonna be lookin at like that? S'yer kiss that gets me them bedroom eyes.”

“Good point.” Paul licked his lips with a wink. “No one can kiss you like I can.” 

“Exactly.” Daryl whispered, nipping Paul's bottom lip. He stood up off the couch, ignoring Paul's whine. “C'mon... s'late... 'm ready fer bed.”

“Uuugh! I just woke up from a nap! I can't go back to sleep now!” Jesus took Daryl's hand and stood off the couch anyways. He held Daryl's hand as they made their way to the stairs. 

Daryl smirked. “Never said we was goin ta sleep.” Paul grinned and hurried past his husband, running up the stairs. Their laughter and heavy boots on the stairs echoed through the house.

 

Past:

Having his friends over that first time seemed to open a permanent invitation for everyone. Almost every weekend Tom, Ian and two others would show up at Paul and Daryl's apartment after classes were over. They'd either stay in and order food, or go out to diners or bars and just hang out. Paul had never had so many friends at one time. Thankfully, Daryl didn't seem to mind too much. He was very shy at first, mostly just watching and listening to everyone; but, slowly he started opening up to everyone else. He started by making sarcastic and sassy comments, then joining in on conversations he could understand. Everyone seemed to really like Daryl. Paul was grateful for that. Daryl had never had real friends before.

They'd been living together for several months now, and Paul was beginning to think he had a permanent boner around Daryl. Ever since he saw the mechanic's scars, Daryl was unafraid of walking around nearly naked so long as they didn't have company coming. Sure, they make out and sometimes things lead to some heavy petting, but anytime thins started going below the belt, Daryl would freak out and put a stop to things; and, of course, Paul would comply. 

And tonight wasn't any different. 

They had about an hour before they were to meet their friends at their favorite bar. Paul was doing some last minute touch ups on a project due in a week when Daryl walked out from their room in only his boxers. Paul looked up, and never looked away. He didn't see Daryl's lips moving. He didn't hear his boyfriend speaking. All he saw was taut, slightly tanned skin, biceps that seemed to get bigger every day and hip bones peeking over top the man's boxers. Paul really needed to buy his boyfriend some tighty whities.... or some tight, lace panties. His mouth drooled at the mere thought of those hips and tight ass encased in black, see through lace. All he could hear was the blood rushing from his head to his cock. He bit his lower lip, trailing his eyes over those long legs.

“Paul!”

The student's eyes snapped up to the mechanic's face. “What?” He quickly moved his sketch pad from his knee to his lap to cover the massive tent in his pajamas. “Sorry, babe, what'd you say?”

“... I asked if ya wanted ta... shower... wit me... b'fore we go.” He seemed so embarrassed having to repeat himself and Paul felt terrible for it. The mechanic shifted nervously. “I know ya been wantin ta-”

Paul stopped listening as his mouth went dry at the thought of standing in their tight shower stall, the shower head spouting a weak water flow down on them. If he didn't know his boyfriend as well as he thinks, hopes he does, he'd think Daryl's teasing him on purpose. Just the thought of seeing all those water droplets caressing Daryl's chest down to his cock, he'd be wishing they were his hands. Maybe if he goes gentle and slow, Daryl will let him-

“Ya want ta 'r not?” Daryl glared at him, face still red. 

“Yes! Yes, I do!” He tossed his sketch pad and pen aside and stood quickly, completely forgetting about the boner he's sporting until Daryl's face flushes deeper and he looks down shyly. Paul's face turned the same shade as Daryl's. “Uh... i-it'll go down in a moment-”

“S'fine... I feel it 'gainst mah back every mornin anyways.”

“Oh, shit, really?!” Paul didn't think his face could get any redder, though the embarrassment did help his erection die down a bit. “Fuck, baby, I'm sorry.”

“Ain't gotta apologize fer it, Paul.” Daryl shrugged. He'd actually been enjoying the feel of it the last few mornings. He liked to believe Paul was having naughty dreams about him. In fact, there's been some mornings when he wakes up hard and pressed against Paul's hip. He always moved away before his boyfriend could wake up, though.

They stood in mutually embarrassed silence for a moment.

“So... shower?” Paul whispered. 

Daryl nodded and turned to walk back into their room. Paul followed him, stripping his clothes off as he walked. When they got into the bathroom, they were both naked. Daryl started the shower and got in, holding the curtain open for Paul. Paul bit his bottom lip, already starting to get hard again. He stepped in, sighing softly at the, unfortunately, luke warm water. They'd gotten used to it, it even felt nice after a really hot day. Daryl stood under the weak spray, letting his short hair get wet. Paul stared with a dry mouth, wanting so bad to run his hands through the wet strands. 

“Ya gonna stand there 'r ya gonna get clean?” Daryl turned to face Paul.

“Right...” Paul swallowed thickly and grabbed the soap and loufa and began washing himself while Daryl washed his hair. 

Daryl finished his own hair and watched Paul finish cleaning himself. “C-Can I... wash yer hair?”

Paul blinked at him. “What?”

“Just... it's always so soft... so... can I-”

“Yeah! Yeah, sure, go ahead!” Paul grinned brightly, reaching for the shampoo and handing it to Daryl before turning away. He soon felt Daryl large hands gently massaging his scalp and working the shampoo into a lather. He sighed softly. “Feels good...” Daryl rinsed his fingers, then gently tipped Paul's head under the spray to rinse out the shampoo. He smiled, opening his eyes to look into his boyfriend's blue eyes. 

“Ready fer conditioner?”

Paul nodded, holding still and complying with Daryl's silent directions to tilt his head back or forward. Once his short hair was clean, he turned to Daryl. “Can I wash you?”

Daryl shifted nervously, then nodded. “Yeah.” He watched Paul grab the loufa and soap and lather it up before gently scrubbing Daryl's chest down to his stomach. 

Paul didn't dare go lower. He motioned for Daryl to turn around and scrubbed his back and shoulders gently before kneeling down to get Daryl's feet. He scrubbed the loufa over them lovingly, even giving the soles a massage. Daryl chuckled when it tickled. Paul smiled up at him before standing and scrubbing Daryl's arms and biceps, paying very special attention to his boyfriend's marvelous biceps.

“Ya got an obsession wit biceps, babe.” Daryl smirked. 

Paul giggled. “Only your biceps. No other biceps can catch my eye.” He leaned forward, kissing Daryl softly. He dropped the loufa and stepped closer, letting his hands slide over Daryl's bare shoulders. “Is this alright?”

Daryl nodded, leaning into the touch. “Yeah...” 

Paul blushed, sliding his hands up and down Daryl's biceps, massaging and rubbing before sliding them down Daryl's chest, gliding his palms over pert nipples. “Daryl.... I've been wanting to touch you for so long.”

Daryl blushed and grinned. “Too bad we gotta go out soon...” He whispered, his hands going to Paul's hips and pulling him closer. 

Paul whined softly. “Daryl...” He wrapped his arms around Daryl's shoulders, pressing against him. “I want you...” Their hips slotted together, hard cocks sliding against each other. 

Daryl let out a soft moan. “I want ya, too...” He stepped back with a nip to Paul's lips. “C'mon, we need ta finish getting ready.”

Paul whined as his boyfriend got out of the shower. He huffed and turned the tap off as Daryl handed him a towel. They dried off and.... Daryl's putting on that tight black polo shirt and worn jeans that hug his ass just right. His boyfriend is a tease, but so is he. So, Paul grabbed out his skinny jeans and Daryl's favorite light blue dress shirt. It was just tight enough to tease, but not so tight that it was uncomfortable. Paul preferred his clothes loose so he could move freely, but he's noticed how Daryl looks at him when his clothes are a bit too tight. Daryl was giving him that look now. 

Paul smirked, bending down to pull his shoes on and wiggling his ass at the mechanic. A hand smacked into it and he jumped. He straightened, blushing. Daryl's never smacked his ass before. He couldn't stop the cheeky grin he sent at his boyfriend. 

“What?” Daryl asked, smirking. “Ya's askin fer it wavin yer bubble butt at me.” He pulled his own shoes on. “C'mon, babe, can't be late.” He grabbed his keys and wallet. “We takin the bike?”

Paul walked up to him, hugging his waist from behind. “Yeah... I want to hug onto you.”

Daryl shook his head, but smiled. They left the apartment and walked down the stairs to Daryl's bike. Daryl mounted first, then waited for Paul to get on behind him. He chuckled when Paul pressed up against his back nice and tight, his hands petting his stomach.

“Don't be distractin me now.” Daryl said and started the bike up. Paul just giggled and laid his head on Daryl's shoulder. 

They zoomed out of the apartment parking lot and arrived at the bar within minutes. Paul had behaved himself and kept his hands away from Daryl's thighs, though he did tease his stomach just a tiny bit while they were at a stoplight. Their friends were already there at a table in the back. They held hands as they walked through the crowd to their friends. Daryl nodded in greeting while Paul lifted his free hand and smiled brightly.

“Hey, guys!” Paul said, smiling more when Daryl yanked a chair out from the table for Paul to sit, then took a chair next to him. 

Daryl immediately pulled out his cigarettes and lit one, barely paying attention to what was being said between the five students. He leaned back in his chair, one arm behind Paul, lightly petting his neck and shoulder while his other hand held his cigarette. The bar was a shwanky little place, playing old country music from an old juke box and a few pool tables. The drinks were cheap and the people were friendly. They'd tried some newer places, but they were too expensive and had mostly sports on the TVs and assholes. They sat around the table for a while, telling stories and drinking. Daryl was on his third beer when Paul turned to him. 

“Wanna play some pool?” The student's blue eyes were bright and flirty, leaning into Daryl's side. 

The mechanic raised an eyebrow. “Thought ya didn't know how ta play?”

“I don't... I want you to teach me.” Paul grinned.

Daryl rolled his eyes. He knew Paul well enough by now to know this was just his boyfriend's way of getting Daryl to touch him. He finished his beer and put his cigarette out. He stood from the table and took Paul's hand, helping him up. They walked over to a pool table and Daryl showed him how to set the balls up. He explained a few rules before giving his boyfriend a cue stick. 

“Like this?” Paul asked, holding the cue stick wrong. 

Daryl snorted. “S'not a dick, babe...” He muttered. At Paul's cheeky grin, he rolled his eyes and stepped up behind him, pressing close to his boyfriend's back and placing his hands over Paul's, moving them to the correct placement. “Like that, ya perv...” 

Paul giggled, leaning back against Daryl. “Okay... how do I shoot?” When Daryl placed a hand on his back and pushed his to lean forward over the table, he blushed, feeling his boyfriend still pressed against his back. He barely listened to Daryl's explanation on shooting the white ball into whatever ball was closest to a hole. Biting his bottom lip, he hit the cue stick into the white ball and it made a loud smacking sound when it smacked into another ball, sinking a stripped ball into a corner hole. He stood up with a proud grin. 

“Not bad...”

It was whispered into his ear and Paul shivered, pressing back into Daryl's broad chest. “Thank you, Mr. Dixon, for teaching me how to sink balls into holes.” He winked.

Daryl smirked with a flush, hands going to Paul's hips. “Dirty pervert.” He leaned forward, kissing his boyfriend gently. Paul leaned into the kiss with a happy sigh. 

 

Present: 

They woke to the sun filtering in through the white curtains. Daryl grunted angrily and rolled over, an arm flopping over Paul's hips and burying his face into his neck. Paul yawned sleepily and turned his face into Daryl's hair. He smiled. Their bodies were pressed closed together. He couldn't tell where he began and Daryl ended. He'd missed this so much the last couple years and he felt so lucky to have it back. 

“Yer thinkin too loud...” Daryl grunted. 

“... Sorry, baby... I just missed you so much.”

Daryl lifted his head a bit, blue eyes looking up into Paul's face. “... Me, too.” 

Paul rolled over to face his husband, reaching up to pet the stubble on his cheek. “Are you still going on that run with Rick today?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Should only be gone fer the day... Rick wants ta be back by tonight. Judy's in desperate need of clothes.”

Jesus nodded. “Please, be careful.” His husband smiled. “I know Rick won't ever put you in a dangerous situation, but he can't control everything, try as he might.”

“I'll be careful...” Daryl whispered. “Don't worry... I'll always come home ta ya.” 

Jesus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He nuzzled into Daryl's neck, taking in his scent deeply. He felt lips brush against his hair and smiled.


	5. Ch. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is only of the past! And it is the last chapter! I'd love to continue it, but I really have nowhere to go with it.

Past:

The door was slammed open, Paul stumbling back. Daryl followed after him, kissing him breathless. He kicked the door shut, barely focusing enough to lock it before pinning Paul to the wall beside it. Their hips grinding together, both men groaning at the wonderful sensation. Paul yanked Daryl's shirt out of his pants and slid his hands up the warm skin, feeling the rough scars under his fingertips and caressing them lovingly. Daryl shivered and carded his fingers through Paul's short hair. He licked into the man's mouth, swallowing the groan of pleasure. His other hand was unbuttoning his boyfriend's shirt, fingertips brushing against ever inch of skin revealed. 

Paul pulled back from the kiss, panting and flushed. “Daryl...” he groaned when those sinful lips began making a wet path down his neck, nipping and leaving light bruises. He shrugged the shirt off once it was unbuttoned. The mechanic sucked a deep bruise into the skin under Paul's ear. “Fuck..!” He arched his back. That was one of his sweet spots, and Daryl found it so fast. His boyfriend chuckled into his ear. 

Those strong hands caressed up his sides and back down his back, stopping at his ass and gripping each cheek in a strong grasp. Paul looked up at his boyfriend, swallowing thickly at the dark look in them. The artist moaned softly and leaned forward, kissing Daryl briefly. He pulled the shirt up and tossed it aside, not seeing where it landed. He was focused on that beautiful chest, feeling the hairs under his fingers and teasing nipples into pebbles. Daryl groaned and lifted Paul's feet off the floor. The artist gasped, latching onto strong shoulders and wrapping his legs around lean hips. 

“Ain't gonna drop ya.” Daryl whispered. 

“I know... you just surprised me.” Paul blushed in embarrassment. He smiled. “I knew you were strong, but... I never expected you to be able to hold me against the wall.” Oh, but he'd dreamed about it. He'd dreamed, day dreamed, fantasized and even drew it. They kissed deeply, moaning louder as the new position allowed for better grinding. “Daryl... mn, fuck... feels so good.” 

“Paul.” Daryl's hips stopped suddenly, leaning back a bit to look his boyfriend in the eye. “D'ya... wanna... y'know..?”

“Have sex?” Paul whispered with a smile. “No, but I wouldn't be opposed to making love.”

Daryl blushed. “S'there a difference?”

The artist chuckled. “For me there is... sex is between two people with no affection for each other, one night stands, if you will. Making love... making love is for people who love each other.” he paused, bringing a hand up to stroke some hair out of Daryl's eyes. His hair was getting long. He would want a hair cut soon. “I love you, Daryl.”

Daryl stared up at him. He murmured a swear and kissed Paul deeply, nipping his lips and pushing his tongue in when Paul's lips parted. Paul moaned into the kiss, fingers threading through Daryl's hair. The mechanic pulled away, panting. “I love ya... I love ya, Paul... so much.”

Paul smiled, stroking his hand down Daryl's cheek. “I'm so happy.” He'd been so worried. There was so many people out there who would probably be a better fit for a man like Daryl. 

“Yer thinkin too loud.”

“Then maybe you better do something to silence my mind.”

Daryl did just that. He pulled Paul away from the wall and carried him over to the bed. He dropped the artist down and yanked his pants off, then removed his own. They'd been naked in front of each other before, but it was different now. They were both aroused and drinking their fill without hesitation. Daryl swallowed thickly. He knelt on the bed, blushing when Paul bent and spread his legs so the mechanic could rest between them. 

“We really doin this?”

Paul smiled. “Do you want to?”

“Yeah.”

“Then come here.” He held out a hand to the mechanic.

Daryl scooted closer. He leaned down, kissing Paul gently, sighing at the feeling of Paul's fingers in his hair. He licked into the artist's mouth, pushing their hips together. Paul moaned, his feet sliding up and down Daryl's legs, shivering at the hairs tickling the souls of his feet. Daryl kissed down his neck, grinding their hips together again. He reached down one hand to wrap around them both and stroked slow and firm. Paul groaned, bucking his hips and gripping Daryl's hair. 

“We got lube?”

Paul looked up at him and blushed a bit. “Yeah... I bought some shortly after we moved in. I was hoping we would eventually... you know... do this.”

The mechanic blushed as well. “.. Yeah... me, too.”

Paul reached to his bedside table and opened the drawer. He pulled out an unopened bottle of lube and handed it to Daryl. “How do you want to...?”

“I prefer ta bottom, but if ya want me to make love ta ya-”

Paul blinked. He'd been under the assumption that Daryl was a virgin when it came to sex. Daryl always seemed so shy. “Wait... so, you've-”

“What? Did'ya think I's a virgin?” The mechanic raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, you're always so shy, I... I honestly was beginning to think you didn't want me.”

Daryl released their cocks and sat up. “Paul... why didn't ya say nothin? I's waitin fer ya ta tell me ya wanted this.”

Paul bit his bottom lip. “You sacrificed everything to come out here with me, Daryl. I didn't want to push you into anything.”

“Yer the one who didn't need any pushin. Ya study so hard 'n still manage ta spend time wit me. I didn't wanna make ya even more tired by askin fer sex every damn night.” 

They both stared at each other, realizing just how much they felt for one another. Paul chuckled softly, reaching up to pull Daryl back down on top of him. Daryl smiled, kissing his boyfriend softly. 

“We're both silly.” Paul whispered. “Daryl... I've been dying to feel you inside me since we first kissed.”

Daryl groaned and tore the plastic wrap off the lube and twisted the bottle open. He spilled a little too much on his fingers in his haste to get them into Paul. Paul licked his lips, watching Daryl lube up his fingers. Daryl's eyes met his as his hand reached down, one finger feeling around Paul's hole. The artist shivered and rocked his hips down on that large hand. 

“C'mon, baby... I can take it.” Paul smiled, licking his lips again to urge Daryl on. 

Daryl leaned down and licked a strip up Paul's cock. His boyfriend moaned and reached down to his hair. He watched that sinful mouth cover the head of his cock and suck gently. That finger pushed in at the same time as that mouth further down his cock, tongue licking all over and cheeks hallowing to tighten around him. 

“Fuck, baby.. feels good.”

Daryl hummed around him, moving his finger in and out. Paul was groaning and rocking his hips. The mechanic bobbed his head, sucking harder and pushing a second finger in. The artist's hands in his hair tightened, his thighs tensed with his oncoming release. Daryl pulled off his cock with a slurp, but left his fingers in the tight hole. 

Paul whined. “Daryl, please...”

“Want a condom?” The mechanic asked. He was breathless, Paul's taste lingered on his tongue and lips and he licked it up. 

“I... I don't think we have any...”

Daryl stared down at where his fingers were buried deep in his boyfriend's ass. Fuck, he wanted his cock in there. “D'ya think we need one?”

“I... I'm clean. I tested before we got together.” Paul blushed.

“Me, too.”

“Good.” They stared at each other in shy silence. Paul finally cleared his throat. “Do you... want me to-” He motioned at Daryl's cock. 

“Oh... yeah.” Daryl pulled his fingers out and spread a little more lube on them before handing the bottle to Paul. 

The artist dumped a bit in his hand and wrapped his hand around Daryl's cock. The mechanic hummed in pleasure and rocked his hips into Paul's hand as it stroked to spread the lube. After a moment, Daryl pushed his hand away and crawled closer. Paul wrapped his legs around Daryl's hips, pulling him even closer. Daryl kept his hand around the base of his cock as he pushed in. The head popped in and they both groaned at the feeling. He pushed in all the way and removed his hand.

Paul smiled in satisfaction at the feeling. He stared up at Daryl's handsome face, flushed with arousal and wet from sweat. He stroked his hands over that broad chest, pinching nipples and scratching gently at the hairs around them. Daryl growled and grabbed Paul's hands and pinned them on the bed. 

“Keep doin that 'n this'll be over 'fore we've even started.”

The artist bit his lip nervously. “I'm sorry, you just feel amazing.”

Daryl groaned and leaned down, nipping Paul's neck. “Ain't that I don't want ya touchin me... just... 'm already close ta the edge. I wanna get ya off first.” He rocked his hips gently, grinding into Paul's prostate. 

“Daryl...” Paul whimpered. He struggled against Daryl's grip on his wrists. “I-I don't care if you cum first... let me touch you.”

The mechanic hesitated. His previous lovers had all been takers, wanting to come before him, some hadn't even bothered to make sure Daryl reached his own release before up and leaving. He didn't want that with Paul. He looked into his boyfriend's eyes and saw only love and need. So, he released Paul's hands, sighing when they embedded themselves in his hair. He started rocking his hips a bit faster, pulling out half way before thrusting back in. 

Paul stared up at him with such warm eyes, lips parted as he panted and moaned. “Faster... please.” 

Daryl groaned. He wrapped an arm around Paul's waist, pulling him closer. His hips moved faster, the change in angle allowing him to hit Paul's prostate. The artist screamed and arched his back. His nails dug into Daryl's shoulders. The mechanic buried his face in Paul's neck, growling and biting the sweaty skin. He thrusted harder. Paul's moans in his ear spurring him on. 

“Daryl! I'm so close!” 

Daryl's free hand shoved down between them, wrapping around Paul's cock and stroking him. He was close himself, but he wanted to get his boyfriend off first. Paul's moans rose in octave, his head tilted back, hair sweaty against the pillow. His hips bucked, meeting each of Daryl's thrusts. His name was a constant sound from Paul's lips. Finally, his thighs tensed and tightened around the mechanic's waist. His back arched and he let out a long, loud wail as he released onto Daryl's hand and his own stomach. 

Daryl grunted as Paul tightened around him. He thrusted a couple more times and bit down on Paul's shoulder as he spilled into the tight channel around him. He rocked his hips a couple more times, milking their orgasm before pulling out and flopping down next to Paul on their small bed. Paul groaned, relaxing his legs down on the sheets. The cool air felt nice on their sweaty bodies. 

“Why'd we wait so long to do that?” The artist panted. 

“Cause we're stupid 'n in love.” Daryl rasped, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. 

Paul chuckled and rolled over, tossing a leg over Daryl's and cuddling into his side. Daryl's arm wrapped around him, burying in his hair. 

 

The years went by fairly fast. Too fast in Daryl's opinion. He and Paul remained deeply in love. They had their fair share of arguments. Paul had a tendency to leave his art supplies laying around for Daryl to trip over. Daryl was bad about picking up after himself, mostly his dirty work clothes. Paul was insecure, always scared Daryl would find someone better. Daryl was bad about communicating with the other man. They always managed to work things out, however, and it always brought them closer. 

Paul's third year of college, his art class held an expo at the local art museum. The artist had spent several days with little to no sleep, working on paintings he felt good enough for the expo. The ones he decided to take were of Daryl, some landscaping and abstract paintings. He sold the landscaping and abstract paintings, but he refused to give up his paintings of Daryl. Those were later hung in his art room at the house they would buy. 

With the money he made from his paintings, they moved into a better apartment closer to the school and Daryl's shop. He paid off his student loans with the rest and paid for his last year at college. He held his own art expo and sold every single painting, minus the ones he did of Daryl. He made enough that they bought a run down house in the forest and an art shop. Renovations on the cabin started soon after they bought it. Daryl headed up most of the destruction of walls and counter tops while Paul drew up a blue print. 

While Paul was distracted with the blue print and opening his shop, Daryl went out looking for a ring. He took Ian with him, as Ian and Paul had gotten close over the years in school. With the other man's help, Daryl found the perfect ring. Now he just had to plan the proposal. It took him two weeks to even get an idea how to plan it. During that time, the ring was hidden in his tool box. Paul rarely ever looked in there for anything, so it was the safest place for it to be so the man wouldn't find out.

“Daryl, what're we doing here? I thought we were going to dinner?” Paul asked, looking up at the house as Daryl parked in front of it. 

“We are.” Daryl rasped as he turned the bike off. “C'mon.” He pulled his keys out and waited for Paul to dismount before getting off himself. 

Paul raised an eyebrow at him, but took Daryl's hand and followed him up to the house. Daryl unlocked it and they stepped inside. It was dark inside since they were redoing the electricity, but they could still see a bit due to candles lit in the dining room straight ahead. Paul stopped in the doorway and stared at the table. It was set with a dark table cloth, the candelabra light and a vase of roses sat in the middle. 

“Daryl, what is this?”

“Told ya... s'dinner.” Daryl grinned and took Paul's hand again. He led him over to the table. “Sit...”

Paul smiled and sat down, watching as Daryl walked over to a bar in the corner of the room and turn on a radio. Soft, romantic music began playing and Daryl lifted a lid off a pan. He got two plates and scooped up what looked like a delicious casserole. He brought the plates over, then went back for two small bowls of salad and brought those over as well. 

“Daryl, what is this all about?” He picked up a fork and took a bite, moaning at how delicious it was. 

Daryl shrugged and poured them both some wine. “What? Can't I do somethin nice fer my boyfriend?” He set the glasses down and took a seat himself. 

The artist smiled. “You know I love it when you romance me.” He took another bite, watching Daryl eat as well. “So... what's the occasion?”

“No occasion, baby...” Daryl whispered, continuing to eat. 

“Uh huh...” Paul stared at him from across the table. “Why do I not believe you?”

The mechanic shift nervously. He was never very good at lying to Paul. “Okay... maybe... I did bring ya here fer a reason. Jus... jus eat yer dinner 'n we'll talk about it.”

 

“Alright.” The artist chuckled. 

They ate in silence, looking at one another with love and affection. Once they were done eating, Daryl cleared the plates and then took Paul's hand, pulling him up from the table. They stepped away from the table and Daryl pulled him close, one arm around his waist, the other holding his hand. Paul smiled as they began to dance to the slow music from the radio. The song ended and another started. Paul lifted his head when he heard what was playing. 

“Daryl, it's our song.” He smiled. 

“I know... why d'ya think it's playin?” Daryl smiled. He pulled him closer, singing softly into Paul's ear. 

Paul smiled and nuzzled into his shoulder. He sang along softly as they danced around slowly what would soon be their kitchen. Half way through the song, Daryl suddenly stopped and stepped back. Paul looked up at him. 

“Daryl, you okay?”

The man bit his lip nervously. He cleared his throat and then reached into his pocket and pulled a small box out. He got down on one knee. Paul's eyes widen. 

“Daryl..?”

“Paul... will you marry me?”

Paul stared down at his boyfriend. “Oh... my...” He smiled brightly. “Yes! Daryl! Yes!” He launched forward, wrapping his arms around Daryl's neck, kissing him deeply, hardly letting the man come up for air.

Daryl caught him easily, nearly dropping the ring in the process. He grinned, kissing his boyfriend, no, fiancee. Paul leaned back, nearly vibrating with excitement. Daryl took the ring out of the box and slid it on Paul's finger. It was anything fancy, golden with what looked like paint brush swirls embedded into the metal in all different colors.

“Daryl! It's beautiful!”

“Ian helped me pick it out, so make sure ya treat 'im ta dinner 'r supplies 'r somethin.” Daryl smiled.

“Oh my God! I'll get him anything he wants! I'll even make him my maid of honor!” Paul laughed. He hugged Daryl again, kissing him deeply. Daryl grunted at the impact and fell backwards onto his bottom with a chuckle. 

 

They planned the wedding for in the spring. May 25th was the day it would happen. Paul picked out most of the decorations and Daryl was fine with it all. The only thing he insisted on was Paul wear white and they have the wedding behind the house after it was finished. Paul was very agreeable to it. So, after the house was finished, they began fixing the yard behind the house. Once it was clean and the flowers in bloom, they decorated for the wedding. They got their suits ready and Paul's hair was growing just long enough to be braided with baby's breaths. 

The night before the wedding, Paul stayed over at Ian and Tom's apartment. Daryl felt alone in the big house. He checked all the decorations to make sure everything would be perfect for the wedding. He checked his suit. He took two showers to make sure he was good and clean. Finally, he laid down and grabbed his phone and sent a text to Paul. 

'Miss you.'

He didn't have to wait very long for a reply. Paul was missing him just as much, if not more. He laid on the air mattress in the living room. He'd gotten used to Daryl laying next to him, his own personal heater, and now he was cold. 

'Miss you, too.'

Daryl licked his lips. 'You alone?'

'For the most part. Ian and Tom are in bed. I hear suspicious sounds, so...' Paul smiled, then blinked when a bed started slamming into a wall.

Daryl chuckled. 'Lucky you.'

'More like lucky Ian and Tom... I wish I was home, then I would be getting lucky.'

'Could get lucky now.'

Paul chuckled and rolled over onto his stomach, cuddling his pillow with his phone in front of him. 'I can't come home, baby, as much as I want to. We're not supposed to see each other before the wedding.'

'I meant we could have phone sex.' Daryl shoved his boxers off and wrapped his hand around himself, He took a picture of his cock once it was hard. 

Paul bit his bottom lip when the picture popped up on his phone. 'Damn, baby, you really do miss me.' He peeked his head up to listen for Ian and Tom, but they were still wrapped up in each other, so he sneaked his hand down beneath himself. Once he was hard, he rolled onto his side and took a picture of his own cock and sent it to Daryl.

Daryl groaned when the picture arrived. He hit the call button by Paul's name. “Hey, baby...”

Paul moaned. “What're you gonna do to me tomorrow night, baby?” He stroked himself slow and firm. 

“Fuck, I'm gonna do something so terrible to you...” Daryl panted and stroked himself faster. “Gonna... gonna lick yer hole nice 'n wet, maybe use that new toy ya bought.”

Paul whined softly, rocking into his hand. “Baby...”

“Then... I'm gonna put ya on yer hands and knees 'n fuck ya nice and slow... and before ya cum, I'm gonna roll ya back over 'n fuck myself on yer cock.”

“Oh, fuck, baby... keep talking... I'm so close.” 

“Yer gonna cum in my hole and then yer gonna lick it all outta me.” Daryl let out a soft whine as he released onto his stomach. 

Paul whined back, releasing into his hand. “Mmn... I can't wait to see you tomorrow.”

Daryl sighed happily. “I love you, baby... see you at the alter.”

The artist smiled. “I love you, too, baby.” He hung up the phone and set it aside. He closed his eyes, dreaming of blue eyes and big, work roughened hands. 

 

The wedding went off without a hitch. It sprinkled in the early morning, but by the time the sun came up, the clouds were gone and it was warming up. There was a gentle breeze that kept everyone from over heating. Tom did their wedding photos after their vows were exchanged and they kissed. Paul liked them so much, he got several copies of them. Several were hung around the house, others were put on his desk and on their dresser. Their suits were cleaned and preserved in sealed boxes. They went on honeymoon to Paris, saw art museums, then flew to Hawaii where they relaxed by the ocean. 

A year later, Daryl went to Georgia to visit Merle. He kissed Paul goodbye before he left. Paul lingered in bed before getting up and taking a shower. He grabbed his own bag and drove to visit his sister. Two days later, the world ended. Cell towers went down. Airlines were closed. Buses stopped running. Paul had no way of getting to Daryl. His sister was bit and turned. He wanted to go find Daryl, but he now had people relying on him, so when he brought back a small family, he asked them where they came from. 

“Georgia... we were in Atlanta, Georgia visiting family when it all happened. We barely managed to get out before the military bombed it.”

Paul's heart dropped. “... T-They bombed the city?”

“Yeah... it was terrible...”

“I-I'm sorry... I've... I've gotta go...” Paul turned and hurried away, going into his trailer. His knees gave out and he screamed, tears streaming down his face for the loss of his beloved husband. He didn't leave his trailer for a week. 

 

Two years later, he peeked around a building at two men. The man with the angel winged vest was so familiar. His voice was deep and rough. His hands were big. His stance was defensive but relaxed. His hair was too long and dark, though. Jesus' beloved husband has short, dirty blonde hair. With a heavy sigh, Paul pushed forward. He broke into a sprint, slammed into the man with the cowboy boots, took his keys and stumbled away, slipping the keys into his pocket. He spoke with the curly haired man. He kept glancing at the man in the vest, his heart was racing from that intense stare. 

“Where?”

He broke away from that intense stare to respond to the other man. “About half a mile back. They're headed this way. You probably have about... eleven minutes.”

They stared at him. Then the curly haired man lowered his gun and put the safety on. “Okay... thanks for lettin us-”

“Paul?”

The man in the vest spoke, lips beginning to quiver. Paul tensed. He stepped a bit closer, lowering his head some to look into the man's eyes. “Daryl..?” He reached up and lowered the bandanna across the bottom half of his face. 

Daryl's eyes widened, suspicions confirmed. “Oh fuck..!” He put the safety on his gun, barely getting it in the back of his pants before Paul was flinging himself into his arms. 

Paul sobbed, hands gripping onto Daryl's vest. He had his husband back. He had this beautiful, kind man back in his arms. He was never going to let go of him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did do some edits. I realized I messed up the time line so I went back and changed a couple things!

**Author's Note:**

> I admit Daryl seemed a bit OOC to me when I was writing it. So I thought 'what would I do if I got separated from my husband in a zombie apocalypse only to find him close to two years later?' I would be very much relieved and wouldn't want to take my hands off of him or ever leave his side again.


End file.
